


Angel of Mine

by wingsyouburn



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angels, Canon-Typical Violence, Demons, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Torture, Multi, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rated for future chapters, Rosalie Archer (OC), Slow Burn, Torture, tpromptsachallenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26193787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsyouburn/pseuds/wingsyouburn
Summary: Angels walk among us. They serve the people, aiding those who need it, guiding their chosen, and using their magical abilities to make the world a better place. Rosalie Archer thought she had it all. Once her two best friends, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, returned from World War II, she would bind her life to theirs, and the three of them would live happily ever after. Only Bucky fell from a train, and Steve crashed into the ice, and Rosalie had to find a new path in life.Now it’s 2014, and unbeknownst to Rosalie, her secret has been discovered. HYDRA wants to harness the power of angels, and with the help of a demon with a grudge, their experiments are close to complete. When Rosalie goes missing, her old friend, Peggy Carter, sends Steve and Bucky after her. In a reunion seventy years in the making, how will Steve and Bucky react to Rosalie’s abilities? How will the rest of the Avengers react to a new comrade with wings?And how far will demons go in order to see all of the angels destroyed?A Stucky/OC Angels AU.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 73
Kudos: 112





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of ~tilltheendwilliwrite's 7.7k Covid Sucks Prompt Challenge. Congrats on all the followers, T - you deserve all that and more! I hope you like what I've come up with for this challenge. ♥ 
> 
> This fic assumes that 1. Bucky was rescued from HYDRA, 2. the Accords never happened, and 3. everyone is living happily ever after(ish) in the Avengers Compound. What's canon? I've never met them. Takes place post the first Avengers movie.

**_May 2014_ **

The sun beat down on Peggy’s shoulders. Sweat trickled down the back of her white blouse. She ignored it, yanking out the weeds. 

She should be enjoying tea in her garden. Lilacs, stargazer lilies, and hydrangea bushes lined the path. But the weeds drew her eye, like an inkblot spreading on the page. Her old bones protesting, Peggy got down on her hands and knees to pluck out the offenders. 

Gardening became her hobby after she left SHIELD. At 93 years old, Peggy had earned the right to enjoy her retirement. Sitting idle never suited her. Her garden kept her busy throughout the spring and summer. In the winter, she maintained a small greenhouse on her back porch, growing herbs and succulents to give to her friends. 

Sharon always looked in on her, but as long as her health held, Peggy could take care of herself. She was old, not dead.

Having something to do with her hands kept her mind busy. She wasn’t the director of SHIELD anymore, but Sharon kept her updated. Peggy knew of Steve Rogers’ rescue from the ice. He was alive and well - and he was still fighting as Captain America. 

Peggy wanted to see Steve, yes. She wanted to hold him, and she would remind him that he still owed her a dance. Those were thoughts of another, younger woman. Sharon would bring Steve here when Peggy was ready to see him. 

For now it was enough to feel her hands in the dirt, pulling the weeds out one by one. “I swear I did this just last week,” Peggy muttered at the growing pile beside her. “Why do you feel the need to invade my garden?”

She didn’t hear the clinking of the garden gate, but the giggle that followed was unmistakable. “If I’d known we would be working outdoors, I would have dressed for it,” a voice called over.

Peggy sat up, wiping her brow. Dirt smudged along her forehead. “Keep talking and I’ll put you to work, pretty dress or not.” She narrowed her eyes. “How did you get in here?”

The other woman shrugged. “The gate was open,” she said, as if that could explain everything. “And you didn’t answer my knock on the front door.” She tucked a lock of shoulder-length dark hair behind her ear. “Hello, Peg.”

“Hello, Rosalie.”

As always, Rosalie Archer was a vision. In a white wrap dress with delicate pink and blue flowers, she could have attended a tea party with the Queen instead of visiting an old friend. Pale skin with minimal makeup made her hazel eyes bright in the midday sun. An antique locket, delicate and gold, sparkled around her neck. She looked as young and fresh as the flowers around her.

And Rosalie hadn’t aged a day since Peggy first met her, nearly seventy years earlier. The outfits may have changed, but her face was still the same.

Rosalie came around the winding path, offering a hand to help Peggy up. “And what did the plants do this time?” she asked with an amused smile.

Peggy took her arm, cursing the arthritis in her knees. Sharon always offered to help with the weeding, but Peggy liked to do it herself. “Not the plants. The weeds. Not that I expect you to be able to tell the difference.” Peggy eyed her over her sunglasses. “Did you remember to water the seedlings I gave you?”

“For a while.” Rosalie shrugged. “Ransom didn’t eat them this time, so they’ve lasted longer than the last plants you gave me.”

“You would think your cat would know where his food dish is by now.”

“But he’s still a kitty. I’ve tried for years to teach him not to eat my plants.” Rosalie patted Peggy’s hand, unconcerned with the dirt. “And I did tell you my houseplants were plastic.”

Warmth crept up Peggy’s arm. A glow spread from Rosalie’s hand and along Peggy’s skin. Her magic wasn’t new, but it still caught Peggy off guard. Now, Peggy felt like she was a spry 75, not approaching a century old. 

Sometimes it was nice to have a friend with otherworldly abilities. 

“A doctor who can’t remember to water her plants.” Peggy rolled her eyes. “Who would have thought?”

Rosalie laughed. “A doctor who always has a lot on her mind. Come on, I’ll help you get with the tea.”

She guided Peggy towards the house, her pace matching Peggy’s. “I can walk and get the tea, you know,” Peggy reminded her. “And I can serve tea in my own house.”

“Of course you can,” Rosalie shot back. She opened the kitchen door, gesturing for Peggy to go first. “I’ll get the teapot on while you clean up. It’s what friends do.”

While Peggy washed up, Rosalie flitted around the kitchen like it was her own, pulling down teacups and filling a small carafe with cream. She also refused to let Peggy carry the tray out to the table out in the garden. Once they both sat down, Peggy poured them each a cup. She added sugar and a splash of milk, just like she would have back home in Hampstead. 

Rosalie crossed her legs as she took a sip. Her back straight, poised as ever, Rosalie was a reminder of an era gone by. She met Peggy’s eyes, and they both spoke at the same time: “I have something to tell you.” 

Chuckling, Peggy waved a hand towards Rosalie. “You first,” she encouraged. Their conversation would be derailed once she brought up Steve. 

Rosalie drew a breath, setting her teacup down. “My father’s gone missing.” 

Whatever Peggy had been expecting her to say, that wasn’t it. For as long as she’d known Rosalie, Peggy also knew her father, John Sterling Archer. He ran the corner grocer in Brooklyn during the war and hadn’t been far from his daughter’s side in the years since. Like Rosalie, Sterling hadn’t aged, either. Every time Peggy saw him, he was always warm and welcoming. Peggy hated the thought that something might have happened to him. “That’s unlike Sterling.”

“I know.” Rosalie toyed with the teacup, running her fingertip over the rim in slow circles. “If he travels, he always tells me where he’s going, when he’ll be back. He has his duties, as I have mine. But this time… I got a call from Marian, who works at his shop in Queens, saying she hadn’t heard anything from him in a few days. She’s competent and the shop is fine, but I can’t reach him. At all.”

“Maybe something happened to his phone?” Peggy offered. Technology was great, as long as it worked. 

She shook her head. “If it had, he would have replaced it, and immediately called me, and the store. When I call him now, it tells me the number is no longer in service.” 

Peggy sat back in her chair, brow furrowing. “You’ve checked his apartment, I assume?” 

“First place I went.” Rosalie shrugged. “A few things were out of place - dishes still dirty in the sink, a cold cup of coffee on the table. It’s like he got up to check on something and never came back.” She sighed. “And Lucas, his dog, is missing as well.” 

“But no signs of a struggle?” 

“No. Which should reassure me, but it doesn’t.” Rosalie rubbed at her temple. “Where would they both have gone?” 

“One would assume Lucas and Sterling would be together.” Every time Peggy saw Sterling, the big black lab was always beside him. Given that she’d never been one for pets, she liked Lucas well enough. Peggy preferred Rosalie’s pain in the ass cat. “For all you know, he could just be off the grid for a while.” 

Sipping at her tea, Rosalie frowned. “I know, but - something feels wrong. Dad left a bunch of files in his office. He was trying to find someone.” Rosalie looked up from her tea. “Does the name Malcolm Nash mean anything to you?” 

“No, should it?” 

“Dad mentions him a lot in his notes. Maybe I can find out something about him.” 

“So why tell me?” 

“Peggy.” Rosalie took Peggy’s free hand, squeezing it lightly. “You’ve been one of my closest friends for the last seventy years. You know what I am, what my father is. If something happened to him, and someone else found out, it could spell disaster.” 

“What kind of disaster?” 

Rosalie sucked in a breath. “There’s more than just angels out there, Peggy.” 

It was easy to forget that Rosalie was an actual, honest-to-god angel. Peggy had seen her wings before, and Rosalie wasn’t shy about using her healing magic to help those who needed it. But that sort of sweetness and light came with enemies, too. 

Though Rosalie didn’t age, angels could be killed. Peggy knew that too. Rosalie’s fear for Sterling was understandable. 

“Do you think…” Peggy set her teacup down. “Do you think someone’s found him?” Or something else just as dangerous.

“I don’t know.” She let go of Peggy’s hand, staring into her tea. “I took a leave of absence, so I can follow the leads in my father’s papers.” Rosalie pulled out a thin manila folder from her purse. “This is what I know. If I’m not back in two weeks’ time, at least someone will know where I went.” 

“Two weeks,” Peggy repeated. “You don’t expect to make it back before Memorial Day?” 

Every year, Peggy and Rosalie met at Arlington National Cemetery, at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. It was their way of paying their respects to the soldiers they’d lost, including two special soldiers who remained in their hearts to this day. 

Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. 

“Well, if all goes well, I won’t be gone that long.” Rosalie smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You know how much I want to be in Arlington then. This is just a precaution.” 

“Should I tell Sharon?” Sharon Carter, Peggy’s great niece, was Peggy’s connection to SHIELD after her retirement. Sharon couldn’t tell her everything, of course, but Peggy trusted her with her life. 

Rosalie shook her head. “SHIELD cannot know angels exist. Who knows what they would do with that information?” 

“I certainly kept your secret.” 

“Because I know I can trust you.” Her eyes drifted closed. “No, I don’t think we need to involve them. Sharon still thinks of me as Rose Sterling, the pediatrician you met while you were getting your groceries. The truth is much more complicated.” 

Rosalie had a point. Even when Peggy worked in intelligence, the best secrets were the ones kept close to her chest. “You’ll let me know if that changes?” 

“Of course.” Rosalie picked up her tea, cradling the mug with both hands. “Speaking of Memorial Day, I don’t think we should go to that sandwich shop again. The one with the fried pickles? Those were disgusting.” 

Peggy chuckled. “No, we’ll pick somewhere else.” 

“Good.” Rosalie’s shoulders eased a little. “Now. You said you had something to tell me too?” She eyed Peggy from over her teacup, patiently. 

If the news came from anyone besides Sharon, Peggy wouldn’t believe it herself. Steve Rogers, Rosalie’s childhood friend and Peggy’s almost lover, was still alive. Rosalie deserved to hear it from Peggy than on the news. 

Peggy sat up straighter, licking at her lips. “Do you remember, when the Chitauri attacked New York?” 

“Of course. My father and I helped with the rebuilding efforts.” Rosalie studied Peggy. “What about it?” 

“Then surely you’ve heard about Captain America.” 

Rosalie froze, resting a hand against her heart. “I did, yes.” She looked out over the garden. “He was such a symbol back in the day. It makes sense that someone would pick up the shield again. I won’t lie, it still hurt, reading about it in the papers.” 

Peggy had felt the same. She even demanded that Sharon prove Steve was real, and she had. Rosalie needed to know the truth. “Rose… it’s not a man in a costume. Captain America  _ is  _ Steve. Our Steve.” 

“That’s not possible.” Rosalie swallowed. “Steve was - he landed the plane in the ice. They never found him. You were  _ there,  _ Peggy.” 

In that moment, it was 1945 again and they were standing in the middle of Archer’s Grocery in Brooklyn, Peggy apologizing for a death she couldn’t prevent. “SHIELD found him,” she murmured. “In the ice. Despite all odds, he survived. He’s working with SHIELD now.” 

Shoving her chair back, Rosalie paced around the small patio. Her heels clicked against the stones. She toyed with her locket, rubbing her thumb over the surface. “No one should have survived that,” Rosalie said. “It’s impossible.” 

“The serum changed him in ways we’re still trying to understand,” Peggy said. 

Rosalie pressed her other hand against her stomach. The color drained from her face. “And magic.” 

“You mean science?”

“No. I mean  _ my  _ magic.” She squeezed her eyes shut. A single tear traced down her cheek. “I blessed him before he left, just like I blessed Bucky. I always thought my magic wasn’t strong enough. Maybe Steve was protected after all.” 

An old pain stabbed her heart. Peggy breathed through it. “What happened to Bucky wasn’t your fault either,” Peggy reminded her. “Nor was Steve crashing into the ice. Decisions are made in war that can never be taken back.” 

“They were supposed to be my chosen,” Rosalie whispered. A shudder shook her shoulders. “The two souls I would give my life to protect. I should have followed them. I should have made sure they were safe.”

“There is no such thing as ‘safe’ in a war zone.” Peggy patted the table. “You can’t beat yourself up for something that happened seventy years ago. Sit down. Drink your tea.” 

Rosalie stifled a laugh, dabbing at her eyes with her fingertips. “I’m still older than you,” she chastised, but she took a seat. Sighing, she took a sip of her tea. “Have you seen him?” 

Peggy shook her head. “Not yet. Sharon wasn’t supposed to tell me it’s actually Steve.” 

“Surely they couldn’t think she could keep that from you.” 

“No more than I can keep it from you.” 

She smiled, softly. “You loved him as much as I did.” 

“You loved them both.” Peggy hadn’t been jealous of that. Steve and Bucky were an important part of both of their lives. It brought her to one of her oldest, best friends. Throughout the years, Rosalie proved to be Peggy’s confidant and strongest supporter. She wouldn’t trade Rosalie for anything. 

“Always did. Always will.” Rosalie waved a hand. “He probably thinks I’m dead by now. I could pass myself off as my own granddaughter, I guess, but that feels wrong.”

Peggy snorted. “He’d know you were lying.” Steve always did, and Peggy loved that about him. “He still looks the same too. He’ll understand.”

“I’ll have to tell him what I am.” Rosalie inhaled sharply. “And hope he won’t be mad I hid it from them.”

“You thought he was dead for seventy years. I think you’ll be forgiven.”

Rosalie rubbed her hand against her heart. “I have to go see him.” 

“We both do.” Peggy smiled, hoping to ease the other woman’s worries. “We can go together. After Arlington?”

Chewing on her bottom lip, Rosalie closed her eyes. “I need to find my father,” she whispered. “But I can’t let Steve get away from me again. I’ll never get Bucky back, but if I can protect one of them…”

“You have to do it.” Peggy couldn’t understand the bond between an angel and their chosen. But she understood duty and responsibility. Rosalie would always have her full support. “Maybe seeing a familiar face might help him,” Peggy added.

“Your presence will help him too.” Reaching across the table, Rosalie took Peggy’s hand. Peggy latched onto her like a lifeline. “He talked about you so much in his letters. He loved you.” 

“Bah.” Peggy waved her free hand. “That was a long time ago.” 

“The heart wants what it wants.” 

“And I don’t look as young as I used to.” 

“You’re still as radiant as ever.” A hint of Rosalie’s mischievous sparkle returned to her eyes. “We could have shared him, you know.”

Peggy let out a giggle. “Barnes only had eyes for you.” And for Steve, though no one spoke of it. 

Leaning forward, Rosalie dropped her voice to a whisper. “Maybe. But we could have shared them both.” 

Tipping her head back, Peggy roared with laughter. Maybe in another lifetime, the four of them - Peggy, Rosalie, Steve, and Bucky - could have lived that happily ever after. But it wasn’t meant to be. Bucky died seventy years earlier. Steve’s return was a gift. 

And Rosalie had grown into the angel Peggy admired and respected. She embodied sweetness and light, always there to guide the way. 

Now Peggy could see to it that Rosalie had a friend, a confidant when no one else knew what she was. She’d built SHIELD into the program it was today - Peggy could keep one last secret. 

Rosalie stayed another hour, chatting about everything and nothing. She shared stories old and new, from growing up in Brooklyn with the boys to her life now in her pediatric office. When she left, she kissed Peggy on both cheeks and promised that they’d meet up in Arlington, like they did every year. 

As the garden gate closed behind her, the sun hit Rosalie’s hair. Not for the first time, Peggy swore she saw a halo. 

* * *

Two weeks later, Peggy watched the sun set over Arlington Cemetery. The orange and gold rays offered a sense of peace, but her mind turned over and over. 

Their meeting time for lunch had long since passed. Numerous phone calls and texts to Rosalie’s phone went unanswered. After the twentieth call, her voicemail was full. 

Rosalie never missed Memorial Day. Even when Peggy couldn’t join her, she always made the pilgrimage as her way of paying respects to her lost loves from World War II. Peggy knew the truth in her bones, and she didn’t want to admit it. 

Rosalie’s last words haunted her:  _ If I’m not back in two weeks’ time, at least someone will know where I went. _

“Aunt Peg?” Behind her, Sharon rocked back on her heels. “It’s getting late, and you skipped lunch. Have you been able to get ahold of Rose?” 

“No.” Peggy faced her niece, jaw tightening. “She’s not coming.” 

“Are you sure? We can wait a little longer if you want.” 

“Sharon.” Her voice dropped. She’d retired years before, but she was still the former Director of SHIELD. “Rose warned me this might happen.” She drew a breath and slowly let it go. It didn’t slow her pounding heart. “I need you to do me a favor.” 

Sharon’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of favor?” 

Involving Sharon and SHIELD was the last thing Rosalie wanted. Her absence only meant one thing: something happened in her search for Sterling. At best, Peggy was overreacting. At worst, she was Rosalie’s last hope. 

But while Rosalie didn’t trust SHIELD, there was one person who could track her down. Peggy knew he wouldn’t be able to turn down a personal request from her. 

Peggy stared into Sharon’s eyes, unflinching. “I need you to bring a mission to Captain America.” 

* * *

The pain flared up her back and over her shoulder. Rosalie moaned, shifting onto her side, spitting out blood. 

She blinked, eyes adjusting to the darkness. Concrete walls surrounded her. Water dripped from the ceiling, leaving the floor wet and cold. A cot was thrown into the far corner, but the sheets looked black, like they’d never been washed. The only light in the room came from a tiny window in the door, covered in bars. 

_ Where am I?  _

Metal rubbed against her wrists and ankles. Heavy chains clinked together as she sat up. She was chained to the wall like a dog, bound at her hands and feet.

Panic rose in her chest. She gasped for air, heart pounding in her ears, but she forced herself to steady her breathing.

And then she saw the feathers.

Curling over her shoulders, her white wings were dingy, like they’d been dragged through the mud. Despite that, they still gave off a faint iridescent glow in the dim light of her cell. She flexed her wings, gently. Her shoulders protested, but while she was sore, she didn’t think they were injured.

But she didn’t remember revealing her wings. She’d gone to the warehouse listed in her father’s notes, hoping for any sign of Sterling. Then someone attacked her from behind. Rosalie could hold her own in a fight, but not against five attackers. Something struck her in the head, and she woke up here.

Rosalie wouldn’t reveal she was an angel unless she absolutely had to. What happened that she couldn’t remember?

Gritting her teeth, she rolled her shoulders back to dock her wings. Pain tore through her spine. She bit the inside of her lip, tasting fresh blood.

Her wings didn’t budge.

Closing her eyes, Rosalie reached out with her magic. The shock rippled through her body, from her toes to the top of her head. She curled her wings around herself, shaking out the tingles in her fingers. 

The entire cell was coated in dark magic.

Demonic magic.

Overhead, a speaker crackled. “Oh good, you’re awake. About time.” The smooth voice never faltered. “I was wondering how long that spell would put you down.”

“Who are you?” Rosalie struggled to get up. Between the chains and the dark magic, she only made it to her knees. “What do you want from me?”

Laughter filled the room. “We’re just getting started. Get some rest. It’ll be more fun if you still have your wits about you.”

“Let me go!”

They never answered. The speaker clicked, and everything fell silent. 

“Where am I? What are you doing here?” The words poured out, even though she knew she wouldn’t get a reply. “Can you hear me? Hello?”

Outside her door, the light went out, plunging the room into darkness. Rosalie swallowed, resting her head on her knees. Her body trembled with uneven breaths.

Did Sterling know about this place? Was he kidnapped too, just like Rosalie was? Until she could get out of here, she had no way to know. If Sterling had any idea about a kidnapping ring or a demon operating near him, he would have been obligated to check it out. It was what any good angel would do. 

At least Peggy knew Rosalie was searching for her father. But Peggy couldn’t launch a rescue mission on her own. All Rosalie could do was wait.

Certain she was being watched, she tucked her face inside of her wings. Whoever her captors were, they weren’t allowed to see her cry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharon brings Steve and Bucky a mission from Peggy, and Bucky remembers a young woman in a grocery store in Brooklyn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None

**_The Avengers Compound_ **

“I don’t know about all this, Steve,” Bucky said, running a hand over his hair.

The apartment was three times the size of Bucky’s hovel in Bucharest. Stainless steel appliances and marble counters filled the kitchen. A black leather L-shaped couch dominated the living room. Floor to ceiling windows let in the early morning light. Glass doors led out to a balcony overseeing the Hudson River.

When Bucky joined the Avengers, he didn’t expect a warm welcome. Steve vouched for him, but it didn’t feel like enough. He needed to earn his place in the world and with the team.

He knew what horrors he’d committed as the Winter Soldier. Bucky would never be able to repent for all that death. He certainly didn’t deserve a fancy apartment on the Avengers’ dime.

“Don’t know about what?” Steve asked, coming up behind him. “It’s a far cry from Brooklyn, but it’s nice.”

Bucky rolled his neck, tension creeping up his shoulders. “Do we really need this much space?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I like the idea of sharing it with you.” Steve wrapped an arm around Bucky’s waist. Bucky stiffened. Steve would never hurt him. Steve fought for him. Steve brought Bucky back to himself.

Steve loved him. And Bucky loved Steve. 

So Bucky relaxed into him, dropping his head back onto Steve’s shoulder. “Still feels like I shouldn’t be here,” he murmured.

“We’ll work on that.” Steve brushed his lips over Bucky’s temple. “You didn’t even see the master bedroom yet.”

“Master? As in we have more than one?”

Steve grinned, sheepishly. “I think Tony wanted to give you your own room.”

Bucky snorted. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Taking his hand, Steve led Bucky down the hall. The master bedroom featured a bed big enough for two super soldiers, covered in crisp white sheets and matching nightstands on either side. Above the bed was a large abstract painting in shades of red, white, and blue, featuring Captain America’s shield.

“You picked that out?” Bucky pointed to the wall.

“Oh. That.” Steve shrugged. “Tony’s idea. All of the Avengers have art of their codename in their quarters.”

“Should I be expecting artwork of my metal arm?” Maybe he’d use it for target practice.

“If Pepper delivers it herself, best to just accept it.”

Bucky tilted his head in Steve’s direction. “I’ll give you that one.” No one said no to Pepper Potts. He only knew the CEO in passing, but everyone else held her in high regard.

Still didn’t mean he wanted a reminder of his past with HYDRA hanging on his bedroom wall. He just wouldn’t say that to Pepper.

A doorway led to a master bath on the left hand side. Everything was spotless, with stainless steel details and pops of red and blue. “You don’t spend much time here, do you?” Bucky asked, looking over his shoulder at Steve.

Steve ran a hand over his hair. “I take a lot of missions. Or I’m at the gym. So not really.”

“I can tell.” In a flash, Bucky recalled Steve’s bedroom in Brooklyn, newspapers strewn across the desk. Several half-finished cups of coffee graced every surface. Bucky drew a sharp breath, and the memory faded. “We can work on that.”

“As long as you do, too.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky crossed his arms. “I know how to relax.”

“That’s not shooting things at the gun range with Natasha?”

“That’s fun for me, punk.”

Steve grinned, and Bucky’s heart melted again. “Fair’s fair, after all.”

He shook his head, looking over the room again. A worn cardboard box was tucked into the far corner, sticking out in the perfection of the rest of the room. “What’s that?” Bucky asked, pointing to it.

“You remember Agent Coulson, right?” Steve grabbed the box and set it down on the bed.

“Guy in a suit giving you heart eyes from across the room?” Another man might have been jealous, but since Steve never acknowledged it, Bucky let it go.

Steve laughed. “It’s not like that. Coulson is a huge Captain America collector.”

“I don’t know which is worse.”

“I got used to it.” Steve shrugged. Captain America had been a household name at one point. Perhaps it was to be expected. Ripping off the tape, Steve opened the box. “Coulson tracked down some of my personal affects from the war. I wasn’t about to ask him how he did it, but he figured these were better in my possession than his.”

Leaning into Steve’s side, Bucky peered down in the box. People collected the weirdest things. He remembered when they saved newspapers so they could start a fire or to stuff in their shoes. Photographs were worth more than the memories attached to them. Bucky lost all of that years ago.

Random objects filled the box. Boxing gloves that could have been Bucky’s from the 1940s. Photographs galore, mostly of their old Brooklyn neighborhood. Steve held up a set of dog tags. “These are fakes,” Steve said, “Coulson verified them before I came out of the ice, but he figured I might like to have them anyway.” 

At the bottom, another shoebox waited. The paper peeled from the lid, fragile and worn brown with age. “May I?” Bucky asked as he pulled it out. 

He took off the lid, setting it aside gingerly. Bucky drew a sharp breath. “Letters,” he whispered, fingering the one on top. 

He knew that handwriting. 

He knew that name on the return address. 

“Rosalie,” he breathed. Bucky closed his eyes, and remembered. 

* * *

**_Brooklyn, 1943_ **

“I thought we were heading to the World Expo,” Steve said, leaning into Bucky’s side.

Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulders a little tighter. Fights always made Steve dizzy and disoriented. It never stopped him and Bucky always took care of him in the aftermath. “Of course we’re going to, I promised, didn’t I? Just have a stop to make first.” 

On the corner, Archer’s Grocery glowed like a beacon in the night. The front window showed the meat and cheese counter. On the opposite wall, a pastry case displayed a plethora of cakes, pies, and tarts from DiMaggio’s Bakery down the street. The scent of fresh baked bread wafted on the air. It reminded Bucky of home and safety, like nothing could go wrong inside those doors. 

Bucky’s stomach growled. They didn’t have time for food, but that wasn’t why they were here. Bucky grabbed the door, nudging Steve inside ahead of him. 

Behind the counter, Sterling Archer looked up at the two men, raising an eyebrow. At his feet, a big black lab lifted his head, but didn’t get up. Lucas the dog was a common sight at Archer’s, but Bucky never had trouble with him. Sterling dried his hands on a towel, coming around to greet them. “James Barnes and Steven Rogers,” he said, words stern but voice warm. “One of you is always dragging the other into my store.” 

“Hey, I walked,” Steve said, shaking his head. “We’re not in trouble.” 

“You’re not in trouble anymore,” Sterling pointed out. He gestured to Steve’s split lip. “How many did you fight this time?” 

“How do you know I was fighting?” Steve wiped at his mouth, frowning at the dried blood on his cuff. 

Sterling chuckled. “Because I know you,” he said, as if he was talking about the weather. “And some things don’t change.” He tilted his head. “Rosie! Steve and Bucky are here!” 

“I’m coming!” 

A young woman emerged from the back room. Dark hair fell to her chin in heavy waves, held back from her face with a white flower. Vibrant red lips made her pale skin stand out. The rest of her outfit was modest - a white blouse and dark brown skirt. Bucky loved her look, and always had. 

Especially when Rosalie Archer propped one hand on her hip, looked the two of them up and down, and said: “Steven Rogers, who was it this time?” 

Steve just shrugged. “Billy. Ran his mouth again.” 

“Don’t worry, doll, I took care of him,” Bucky assured her, grinning.

“That’s not the point,” Rosalie said. “I could have handled him too.”

Steve straightened, shrugging off Bucky’s arm. “You would not. He could hurt you.”

“Not all things are settled by throwing a fist,” Rosalie reminded him. She touched Steve’s cheek, looking over his split lip. “Let’s get you patched up.”

“I said I was fine, both of you,” Steve grumbled. Still, he and Bucky both followed Rosalie as she led them into the back of the store.

Archer’s Grocery was a well-known hangout for the local kids. If you found yourself in trouble, Sterling always greeted you with a cup of tea and a place to stay. He became the unofficial father figure of their tiny corner of Brooklyn. It wasn’t the first time the boys showed up after a fight, and Bucky knew it wouldn’t be the last.

The back room was a storage area turned makeshift sitting room. Metal shelving lined the walls on either side, filled with extra paper products and cleaning supplies. Against the back wall was a card table with tea, coffee, and other snacks. An old wooden table with a pair of equally worn chairs filled the center of the room. 

Rosalie never stopped moving, grabbing the first aid kit from the shelf. She pointed at a chair. “Sit,” she told Steve. “Do either of you need something to eat?”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah. We’re headed to the World Expo.”

“Then why are you here?” She dabbed at Steve’s mouth with a clean towel. “One of these days, Billy is going to knock out a tooth.”

“Not if I can help it,” Steve muttered. He held still under Rosalie’s hands. “He had it coming.”

“Of course he did,” she said. “Doesn’t mean you always need to start something.”

“Who says I started it?”

“We do,” Rosalie and Bucky said in unison.

Steve threw up a hand. “Fine, fine. I won’t get pick another fight tonight.”

“Thank you.” With the blood cleaned, Rosalie checked Steve over, clicking her tongue. “I don’t think you’ll have a shiner. No one at the Expo will be any the wiser.”

“No one is going to be looking at me,” Steve said. He jerked his thumb at Bucky. “He ships out tomorrow. They’re all going for him.”

Rosalie’s smile faltered. She turned away, washing her hands at the small sink in the back corner. “I wondered why you were in uniform,” she murmured, drying her hands with a towel. “So you’ve come to say goodbye, then?”

The words died in Bucky’s throat. He wanted to do the right thing. Enlisting would help his ma and his sisters in the long run. He could do his duty to his country. But he didn’t want to leave Steve, knowing his best friend kept enlisting again and again, in spite of his ill health.

And he hated the thought of leaving Rosalie to fend for herself and get Steve out of trouble. Bucky looked out for her just like he looked out for Steve. He licked his lips, staring at his shoes and scuffing his boot along the concrete.

Steve’s chair scraped against the floor. “I’ll see myself out,” he said. “You two got some things to discuss.” He headed out front, closing the door behind him.

Neither one of them spoke. Rosalie fiddled with her delicate gold locket. “You know,” Bucky finally said, “it ain’t like that, doll. I wasn’t going to leave without telling you.”

“I know.” Rosalie sighed. “I worry about you, and I know you have to go, but I was hoping it wasn’t so soon.”

“It’s not forever.” Bucky stepped into her, tilting her head up. Hazel eyes drew him in. He traced his fingertips over her cheek. “I’m gonna come back.”

“You’d better.” She blinked back tears, but tightened her jaw. “I accept nothing less from you, James.”

A shiver ran down Bucky’s spine. Rosalie never called him James. “I promise,” he murmured. This was war. He didn’t like the thought of not coming home to Steve and Rosalie, so he refused to dwell on it. 

“That’s all I need.” Rosalie leaned into his hand, watching him. “What time do you leave tomorrow? Can I be there to send you off?”

“What about tonight?” It wouldn’t be the same if Rosalie wasn’t with them. “Come to the Expo.”

Rosalie bit her bottom lip. Her lipstick didn’t smudge. “I’m closing the store with my dad tonight,” she said, “but I’ll find a way to be there.”

Bucky took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Good.” His shoulders relaxed. It wasn’t goodbye if he knew he was going to see Rosalie again. “I should grab Steve.”

She smoothed a hand over her skirt. “And I should see if Dad needs help out front.”

Steve waited for them at the counter, finishing off a slice of apple pie. He licked his fork as Bucky joined him. “That didn’t take long,” he said, looking Bucky up and down.

“Hush.” Bucky snatched the fork out of his hand and ate the last bite. “Rosalie’s going to come with us.” 

“Rosalie is going to meet you there,” she corrected, sliding behind the counter to take Steve’s empty plate. “Assuming all goes well here.” 

Steve nodded. “Okay. Tell your dad thanks for the pie.” 

“I will.” Rosalie smiled at Steve, and then to Bucky. “Don’t get into too much trouble without me.” 

Bucky crossed his heart. “I won’t. No promises about Steve though.” 

She laughed, eyes sparkling, like she hadn’t been close to crying a few minutes earlier. “I’ve heard that before. Now off with you both!” Rosalie pushed them towards the door. “You don’t want to miss the Expo!”

With a wave, they left Archer’s. Steve glanced over his shoulder, watching Rosalie clean up the counter through the store window. “You know, I think she’s a bit sweet on you,” Steve said, nodding towards her.

“Did you see how she jumped to take care of you?” Bucky hooked an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Think she’s got eyes for you too, punk.”

For as long as Bucky could remember, it had always been the three of them, him and Steve and Rosalie. He didn’t want the war to change that. If he fought, that meant the others didn’t have to. They weren’t kids anymore, playing in the alley and scaring up trouble wherever they could. 

But they still had tonight. Bucky wasn’t going to waste it. After all, who knew when he’d get to see his best friends again?

* * *

The World Expo was everything Bucky wanted it to be and more. Around every corner, something new and exciting waited. Bucky’s fingers twitched, eager to touch every new piece of technology, take it apart and see how it worked. 

Even Howard Stark’s floating car impressed him. Bucky wanted to live in a world filled with that much hope for the future. It was something he could look forward to when the war was over. 

The night would have been perfect had Steve not found the Army’s recruiting office. It didn’t matter how many times Bucky tried to talk him out of it. It didn’t matter how many times Steve lied on his enlistment form. He wanted to be a soldier, and nothing Bucky or Rosalie said could stop him. 

“You’re sure you won’t come with us?” Bucky asked Steve for the final time. “Thinking taking Rose dancing.” 

“What, and show off my two left feet?” Steve shook his head. “Rosalie isn’t even here yet.” 

“She wants to see you, you know.” 

“She’s only interested in you, you know.” Steve hit his shoulder, unable to meet his eyes. “Don’t want to be a third wheel.” 

Bucky sighed, pulling Steve into one last hug. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” he murmured into Steve’s hair. He would come home, and he could get more hugs. 

“How can I?” Steve said into Bucky’s uniform. His arms snaked around Bucky’s waist, squeezing him. “You’re taking all the stupid with you.” 

“Punk.” 

“Jerk.” Steve finally pulled back. “Go find Rosalie. She’ll be upset if you leave without telling her goodbye.” 

Bucky waved off Steve’s concerns, walking away. He’d see his best friend again. This wasn’t goodbye. “Don’t win the war until I get there!” Steve called after him. 

The words caught in Bucky’s throat. He saluted Steve instead, hoping he never saw the man on the battlefield. Bucky made his way towards the front entrance, wondering if Rosalie was here yet. 

He checked his pocket watch. Archer’s Grocery closed half an hour earlier. Bucky sighed, looking over the crowd again. Tonight was his last night in Brooklyn. He didn’t want to waste a minute of it. 

“Bucky?” 

Rosalie waited in the entrance, a beige shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Bucky was drawn to her, like an invisible thread tying them together. 

“Hey! You made it!” Bucky jogged over to meet her, sweeping her into a hug. “I was wondering when you’d get here.” 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, tucking herself into his body. Both of them clung to each other, like it might be the last hug they shared. Rosalie leaned up on her toes, kissing his cheek. “Dad had a few late customers,” she said. “The Morrow boys stopped by.” 

“Their old man kick them out again?” 

“Dad went to talk to him, so I had to close up the store on my own.” Rosalie shrugged. “But I wouldn’t miss this for the world! Everything looks so amazing.” 

Fireworks reflected in Rosalie’s eyes. She captured all of his attention, and Bucky didn’t want to share her with anyone. Not even to go dancing. “It’s even better,” he said. “There was a hover car!” 

“Really? And I missed it!” 

“It only floated for a few seconds,” Bucky amended, “but you should’ve seen it, doll. Maybe it’ll make the news reels.” 

“Or I’ll catch it in the paper tomorrow.” Stepping back, Rosalie linked her arm through his. Bucky laid a hand on top of hers. “We’ll have to be here when it starts next time.” 

He squeezed her fingers. “We’ll make a date of it. You and me and Stevie.” 

She glanced over the crowd. “Where is Steve anyway?” 

Bucky nodded towards the Army Recruitment Office on the other side of the pavilion. “He’s trying his luck again.” 

“He’ll never accept that the military isn’t for him.” Rosalie sighed. “But he wouldn’t be our Stevie if he didn’t try.” 

_Our Stevie._ It was always supposed to be the three of them against the world. “You’ll have to look out for him with me gone,” he reminded her. “No letting him get into fistfights.” 

“Please. As if either of us have ever _let_ Steve get into a fight. He does that on his own.” Rosalie leaned against his shoulder. “But don’t worry. I’ll do what I can to keep him distracted.” She looked up at him with the stars in her eyes. “Do you want to show me all the best parts of the Expo?” 

“I wanted to take you dancing. You know, one last night out on the town. But now that you’re here…” Bucky tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m thinkin’ I’d rather it was just you and me.” 

“I don’t need a fancy night out, you know that.” She tugged on his arm, leading him away from the crowds. “I have an idea.” 

“Oh? What’s that?” 

Her smile turned mischievous. Rosalie always came up with the best adventures when they were kids, imaginative games played in Brooklyn’s streets. “You’ll see when we get there.” She slid her arm from his and laced their fingers together instead. “Come on!” 

She guided him out of the Expo and into the streets beyond. Once they were past the crowds, she took off in a run, never letting go of his hand. In that moment, Bucky would have followed her anywhere. 

After a few blocks, Rosalie ducked into an alleyway. She only let him go to climb the fire escape, her heels clicking against the metal rungs. Bucky was right behind her, climbing until the ground looked small below them.

“You couldn’t pick one of the smaller buildings?” he huffed, though he wasn’t out of shape. 

She giggled. “It’s not that far.” Reaching the roof, Rosalie paused. “Give me a lift?” 

“The roof? Really, Rose?” His hands went to her waist, hoisting her up and over the edge. Then he rose up on his palms and leapt over easily. “What did you want to show me?” 

Rosalie ducked her head. “It’s a great view of Brooklyn.” She glanced out over the city below them. “And no one will interrupt us up here.” 

Folding her skirt beneath her, Rosalie perched on the edge of the building. Bucky sat behind her. He leaned back into his palm, following her gaze. 

From here, Brooklyn was beautiful. Every little light in every building represented a soul finding their way in the big city. This was the world he wanted to protect, the world he was willing to die for. And these were the people who meant the most to him. 

Rosalie sighed, tilting her head back onto Bucky’s shoulder. “I know we could be out on the town tonight,” she admitted, “but I wanted one more moment, just you and me.” 

He nuzzled against her hair. “I’m okay with it.” He closed his eyes. “And we’ll do it again when I come back.” 

“Do you promise?” She took off his hat and placed it in her lap. Then she ran her fingers through his hair, stroking the short strands. 

“Promise what, doll?” 

“That you’ll come back.” 

“I’m gonna damn well try.” He cracked a smile. “Can’t leave you and Stevie forever, you know.” 

“Let me worry about Steve.” Rosalie tilted her head, looking up at him. “Do your best to stay safe. For me?” 

No one knew what would happen when he landed in England. “Promise.” 

“Good.” Rosalie turned in his arms, facing him. “May I do something?” 

“Anything you want, doll.” 

The moon reflected in her hazel eyes, dragging him into their depths. She held his head in her hands, their foreheads touching. “Keep your eyes on me,” Rosalie whispered. 

Warmth spread from her hands. A soothing tingle slid along his neck, over his shoulders and into his chest. Bucky inhaled, cool air flooding his lungs. Something glowed on the edges of his vision. Her gaze zeroed in on his own. 

“May the warmth of an angel’s light comfort and guide you on the path ahead,” she murmured. Her lips moved, but the words echoed within him. His heart pounded in his ears. The warmth continued, from his chest to his arms, then down to his legs. “May your choices be clear,” she continued, “your heart be open, and your soul at peace.” 

Rosalie’s eyes went white. 

She radiated power and peace and protection. A tether linked him to her. Bucky wasn’t afraid. He hung onto her waist, hands pressed against her lower back. “Rosie?” Bucky whispered. 

She blinked. Her eyes were hazel again. Then she pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth. Any other time, he would have pressed further, but this was Rosalie, one of his best friends, and he was shipping out in the morning. 

Power hummed through his veins. It settled in his chest, right over his heart. “What was that, Rosalie?” he asked, stronger this time. 

She blew out a breath. “An old blessing my father taught me,” she said, biting her bottom lip. “It’s meant to protect those we care for when they journey without us.” 

“Sounds like something out of a fairytale.” Bucky rolled his shoulders. “Feels like one, too.” 

“Thank you for letting me continue the tradition.” Rosalie smoothed a hand over his chest, resting against his heart. “When you’re gone, will you think of me?” 

He kissed the top of her hair, tucking her into him. She rested her head against his shoulder. “Always.” Bucky stroked her back, reminding himself that this was real. He’d come back for Rosalie, and for Steve too. “Can I write to you?” 

Rosalie smiled into him. “Only if I can write to you too.” 

For that one night in Brooklyn, all was well in the world. He thought of that rooftop often, how it felt to have Rosalie in his arms. 

If he’d known it would be the last time, he would have never gotten on the plane to Europe. But life - and HYDRA - had other plans. Nothing was ever the same again. 

* * *

**_Present Day_ **

“How did Coulson find these?” Bucky asked, fingering an envelope. Rosalie used to write to him, too. “Letters ain’t exactly easy to keep track of.”

Steve shrugged. He sat down on the bed, box in his lap. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “After I went into the ice, someone must have taken all my belongings.”

Bucky growled at the thought of someone going through Steve’s things. These letters weren’t collectibles, and their relationship with Rosalie Archer didn’t belong in a museum. “I could find them,” Bucky offered, sitting next to him. “Give them a lesson in privacy.”

“It’s not worth it. Coulson only read a couple of her letters and decided it wasn’t his place.”

“At least there’s that.” Bucky flipped over the envelope in his hands. The paper was worn, the corners ripped to show the paper inside. Steve read these over and over again. “I wonder what happened to her. If she was happy.”

Steve sighed. “I feel like it’s cheating if we looked her up now. She thought we were both gone for so long.”

“She’s gotta be almost a hundred years old by now.”

“So are we,” Steve reminded him. “I’d still go see her.”

“Me too.” So Bucky could tell Rosalie he was sorry he never came home like he promised. He flexed his fingers. If he was still alive, and Steve was still alive, then it had to be for a reason. “Do you think the grocery store is still there?”

Steve snorted. “Nah,” Steve said. “I drove through the old neighborhood once. Archer’s is a pawn shop now.”

Bucky frowned. “That’s disrespectful to Mr. Archer.” Even now, he couldn’t call Rosalie’s dad by his first name.

“I know.” Steve rested a hand on top of Bucky’s, holding the letter. “You should read them. She talked a lot about you.”

His fingers tightened around the paper. “Funny, I remember her writing to me about you, too.”

Steve smiled, his eyes softening. “She always took care of both of us,” he murmured. 

“And we paid her back by disappearing from her life.” 

“Hey.” Steve took the letter from Bucky and set it aside. Then he laced their fingers together. “We made decisions and we served our country. If things had been different, maybe we would have come home. But we didn’t. But we still have this.” He held up their joined hands, giving him a squeeze. “And I’m not going to let you go again.” 

Bowing his head, Bucky rested his forehead against Steve’s. “I know.” Intellectually, he did. Emotionally, he was working on it. He wouldn’t magically become the man he’d been before he fell from the train. His days as the Winter Soldier scarred his psyche for life. “We take it one day at a time, right?” 

“Exactly.” Steve pressed a kiss to Bucky’s hair. “And we have time.” 

“Captain Rogers?” 

FRIDAY’s animatronic voice startled them both. Steve glanced up at the ceiling, clearing his throat. “Yes, FRIDAY?” 

“Agent Carter is here to see you. She is very insistent.” 

Bucky hated the thought of an AI system built into the building. It had its uses, but he hated feeling like he was being watched. “Sharon?” he mouthed. 

Steve gave him a nod. “Tell her we’ll be right out.” 

“Will do, Captain.” 

“I wonder what she wants?” Steve stood up, rolling his shoulders. “It’s not like her to just stop by for a social call.”

Bucky shrugged. “You’re the one who knows her.” At least Sharon hadn’t stopped Bucky from joining the Avengers. 

So he followed Steve into the living room, lingering in the doorway. This was his home. He had no reason to hide. That didn’t mean he was thrilled to have company. 

Steve flashed Sharon a smile as he answered the door. “Agent Carter. Didn’t expect to see you this afternoon.”

“Didn’t expect to be here.” Sharon glanced around the room, spotting Bucky in the back. He tilted his head in her direction. “May I come in?”

“Sure.” Steve held the door open for her. “You want something to drink?”

Sharon shook her head. “As much as I’d like to stay, this isn’t a social call.”

Though the two looked very different, Sharon always reminded Bucky of her aunt, Peggy Carter. Both were field agents, both stood up for what was right, and they didn’t take back talk from anyone. Today, Sharon didn’t look like an on-duty SHIELD agent, in casual jeans and a white tee with a striped pattern made out of small anchors. But she still had her pistol strapped to her hip. Just like Bucky still had his knives on his belt and in his boot.

Tucked under her arm was a plain tan folder. SHIELD missions normally bore their insignia. Their last task came directly from Director Nick Fury. 

Steve leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “Fair enough. You here with a mission?”

Sharon’s eyes flicked over to Bucky’s. He didn’t flinch. “A mission for you,” she said. “Barnes can help if he wants.” She straightened her shoulders. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Steve asked.

“Not for me. I’m here on Aunt Peggy’s behalf.”

Bucky crossed the room in three strides. “Is she okay?” Bucky nearly snarled. Last he knew, Peggy ought to be enjoying her retirement.

“Worried, but fine.” Sharon slid the folder across the kitchen island. Steve caught it with one hand. “Her friend is missing. She wants Steve to look into it.”

“Why me?” Steve flipped open the folder, scanning over the first page.

“Aunt Peggy didn’t say.”

“Did she just ask for Steve, or did she ask for both of us?” The question slipped out before Bucky could stop it. 

“Steve,” Sharon said. “Peggy no longer has the same security clearance she used to. She doesn’t know the Winter Soldier has changed sides.” 

His metal hand clenched. “I’m not that anymore.’ 

“I’m aware.” Sharon’s face remained impassive. “She doesn’t even know you’re still alive, Bucky.” 

They’d have to tell Peggy. Maybe after they found her missing friend. Biting his tongue, Bucky looked at the paperwork over Steve’s shoulder. The first page mentioned Dr. Rose Sterling, a pediatrician in Albany. “She’s sure she’s missing?” he asked. 

“Yes,” she said. “Dr. Sterling joins Aunt Peggy at Arlington every Memorial Day. But this year she didn’t show. Her phone goes straight to voicemail. Before she went missing, she left that” - Sharon pointed to the folder - “with Peggy.” 

“Who leaves information before leaving?” Steve asked. 

“Someone who knows they might have trouble,” Bucky answered for him. “You’ve checked her home?” 

Sharon shrugged. “Peggy stopped by, but she told me to keep SHIELD out of it.” 

“Peggy doesn’t trust SHIELD now?” Steve frowned. 

“Dr. Sterling doesn’t.” Sharon sighed. “Look. Peggy specifically asked for you. She said it might be a matter of life or death - and I believe her.” 

The two men exchanged glances. “We’ll check it out,” Steve said. “If we find out anything, we’ll let you know.” He paused. “Or should we call Peggy?” 

“I can pass messages along to her. Technically, she’s retired.” Sharon smiled, “I’ll tell her you’re on it.” 

Steve nodded, a hint of sadness in his smile. “Thanks, Sharon.” 

“No, thank you.” She glanced from Steve to Bucky and back again. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your afternoon.” 

“It’s fine.” Bucky said. If they really didn’t want Sharon here, they wouldn’t have answered the door. “Is there anything else we should know?”

She tilted her head towards Bucky. “All the information I have is in that folder. I’ll let you know if we hear anything else.”

“Sounds good.” Steve returned her head bow. 

Sharon patted Steve’s hand. “She said to tell you thank you for looking into this. I appreciate it too.”

“Peggy knows I wouldn’t tell her no.”

Now Sharon grinned. “And this keeps Peggy from looking for Dr. Sterling herself.”

Steve laughed. “I don’t think anything stops her once she decides on something.”

“Precisely.” Sharon turned towards the door. “I’ll be in touch.” With a wave, Sharon left.

Bucky turned the folder towards him so he could read it easier. “Unconventional mission,” he murmured.

“A favor,” Steve corrected, “not a mission.”

“Same difference.”

“Peggy wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

“But why us?” They were Avengers, not private detectives. 

Whoever complied this information wasn’t a professional investigator either. Unfamiliar handwriting filled every margin, differing from the first page’s note about Rose Sterling. A name repeated over and over: Malcolm Nash. Everything was scrambled together, maps and emails and news articles, but nothing made sense. Save for one address in Albany, Bucky didn’t know if they could use any of these notes. 

Bucky shook his head in frustration - and then he found the only photograph in the folder. “That can’t be right,” Bucky said.

“That’s-” Steve whistled. “No.”

“He has to be dead by now.”

John Sterling Archer’s face stared back at them. Only this man wasn’t in the grocery store in Brooklyn, and this picture wasn’t old. He had a thin mustache and goatee, though the man Bucky remembered was always clean shaven. Dark hair curled around his ears, tied back into a small bun. 

In the photograph, he kneeled next to a black lab, who could have been a doppelgänger for Sterling’s Lucas. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as the man scratched behind his ears. The man smiled, glancing at something away from the camera. 

And he hadn’t aged a day since Bucky last saw him, seventy years earlier. 

“I think this is why Peggy asked for me,” Steve said. He braced his arms on the counter, fingers gripping the marble.

Bucky rested his forehead against Steve’s shoulder. “Peggy didn’t know the Archers,” Bucky reminded him. “It must be a coincidence.” Whoever this Malcolm Nash was, he couldn’t be the same man Bucky and Steve knew. Just what did Dr. Sterling get into? 

“I don’t believe in coincidences anymore,” Steve said. “We have to check this out.” 

Steve’s mind was set. And, just like during the war, Bucky would still follow Steve into the gates of hell. 

Everything happened for a reason. Coulson was supposed to find Rosalie’s letters. Peggy was supposed to ask them to find her friend. Maybe this mystery man knew what happened to their old friend. This could be a picture of one of Rosalie’s descendants.

They owed it to her, to her memory, to get to the bottom of this. Bucky wouldn’t let Rosalie down again.

He lifted his head, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Let’s go.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosalie's captors introduce themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None

Time trickled by inside Rosalie’s cell. 

She couldn’t tell if it was day or night. Her watch was gone, replaced by the cuffs keeping her chained to the wall. Whenever she counted the minutes, frustration and panic rose in the back of her throat. 

The cell door opened only once. Rosalie lunged for the light. Her chains yanked her back. She crashed into the wet floor, pain spreading along her right side. A hand slid a dented metal serving tray through the crack in the door. The peanut butter and jelly sandwich had more soggy bread than filling. A glass of cloudy water came with it.

Rosalie refused to eat a bite. Hunger could wait, for now. An angel could die of starvation and dehydration. She wasn’t that desperate. Yet. 

The longer she stayed in her cell, the more the demonic magic weighed on her. It felt like a wet blanket covering every inch of her skin, seeping into her bones. Every time she reached out for her magic, the backlash knocked her flat on her ass. She couldn’t summon enough power to heal her wounds, much less keep up her strength. 

Rosalie was weakening. Every minute she stayed here made it harder to fight her way out of her cell. She tried not to dwell on the worst case scenarios, but reminded herself of why she’d come here.

She would find her father. She would reunite with Steve and reveal her angelic nature to him. She just had to survive this first. 

Some time later, the door swung open again. Rosalie shifted into a runner’s crouch. Her wings spread behind her, like she could fly away in spite of her chains. 

A man strode in, salt and pepper hair slicked back away from his face. In dark jeans, a leather jacket, and a plain black shirt, he could be anyone she passed on the street. No one would suspect him of holding a woman against her will. His grey beard was trimmed short. Bright brown eyes took in her cell. 

Every inch of Rosalie’s being recoiled. A hiss slipped from her lips. 

The man chuckled, a low sound from deep in his throat. “Don’t worry, darling, I hate being in the same room with you too,” he said, grinning. “But we’re going to have to so much fun together.” 

“I doubt that, demon.” He might look like a regular human, but Rosalie knew the truth. Angels and demons danced around each other for millennia. Demons fed off the chaos and pain they left in their wake. It was her duty to defend those around her. “So you’re responsible for the magic holding me here.” 

He wiggled a finger at her. “If it were up to me, sweetheart, you would be dangling from those chains and begging for death.” 

“What’s stopping you?” She’d fought demons before, but never without Sterling for support. If she showed weakness, the demon would prey upon it. 

The grin didn’t leave his face. “Because my associates offered me a better deal.”

Three more people filed in. Two soldiers flanked the third. Each soldier was dressed for war, in Kevlar armor, semi-automatic rifles at the ready. Helmets hid their faces from her view.

The third was a plain-looking man in a grey three piece suit. Wire-rimmed glasses and dusty brown hair reminded her of a high school teacher, not someone of military rank. He gazed over the room, taking in all the nasty details before settling on Rosalie’s face.

His eyes, one blue and one brown, were empty. He didn’t smile, didn’t flinch, didn’t acknowledge her at all.

“You’ve thralled them,” Rosalie whispered, a chill running down her spine. To influence someone’s mind, to twist it to the darkness a demon craved, violated everything angels stood for. Rosalie couldn’t let the demon get away with it. There was little she could do while she was still chained to the wall. 

The demon laughed. “That’s the best part, sweetheart! They choose to work for me.” He crossed the space between them, kneeling before her. The scent of stale cigarettes and too much cologne flooded her nose. Rosalie turned away, but he grabbed her jaw and wrenched her head back to his. “I’m the one who calls the shots here.”

He patted her cheek and stood, letting her go. Rosalie collapsed, bracing herself on her arms. Her face burned where he’d touched her. The demon shook out his hand, like it hurt him, too. “Well?” he asked, turning to the man in grey. “Will she do?”

The other man joined him. He tilted his head, examining her like she was a pig at market. “You haven’t harmed this one, have you?” he asked, his voice flat and cold. “We have already suffered great losses because of your carelessness with our last specimen.”

Specimen. She was nothing but a creature to them. Rosalie snarled under her breath. “My name is Rosalie,” she snapped.

“Oh I know all about you, baby girl,” the demon said, chipper as ever. “Been following you for a while now.”

Her heart froze. If the demon had trailed her, then he probably knew about Sterling, too. He might even know about Peggy and Sharon’s connection to SHIELD. She curled her hands into fists, fingernails digging into her palms.

“Stop aggravating her, Malcolm,” the man in the suit said. “It will affect her abilities. We need her whole.”

She knew that name. Her father had been searching for someone named Malcolm. And now a demon with the same name held her captive. Rosalie bit the inside of her lip until she tasted blood. 

Malcolm snorted. “Always so straight laced. You promised me I could have some fun.”

The man cut his eyes at Malcolm. Then he crossed the room to Rosalie, each step measured and precise. She backed away until her wings pressed into the wall. “I will not hurt you,” he promised her. “Not if you cooperate.”

“You’re lying,” she whispered. Her chest tightened, and she drew a ragged breath.

“Not necessarily.” He stroked a hand down her primary feathers. Rosalie jerked, shrouding herself in her wings. “I used to think angels were just bedtime stories for children. You will help us usher in a new reality.”

She shook her head. “I won’t do anything for you.”

“You say that now. We have our ways of convincing you.” He smiled, but it never reached his eyes. “Or I can let Malcolm have his way with you. There is still much we could learn from your death.”

“Go to hell.” Rosalie spit in his face.

He didn’t even blink. Instead he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. “Analyze that,” he said, holding the cloth out. One of the soldiers tucked it into a plastic bag. “Keep that fire. You’ll need it.”

“Or I’ll break it from you,” Malcolm said, grinning from ear to ear. “I’d enjoy that.”

One of the soldiers tapped his earpiece. “Dr. Auerbach,” he said, “you’re needed in the lab upstairs.”

“Tell them I’ll be right up.” Auerbach’s eyes lingered on her feathers. “Until we meet again,” he said, “do take care.”

Auerbach paused in the doorway. “And I wouldn’t hope for rescue, either,” he reminded her. “No one knows you’re down here. Not even the Avengers can find you now.”

She inhaled sharply. SHILED and the Avengers didn’t know anything about her. Only Peggy knew where Rosalie went. But then again, Steve was an Avenger now. If he knew Rosalie was still alive, she knew he’d come for her. 

And if she mentioned that she knew Captain America, who knew what Malcolm and Auerbach would do with that information. 

Her silence was enough. Auerbach disappeared through the doorway, the two soldiers at his heels. Malcolm blew her a kiss before he followed them. 

The heavy door slammed shut, leaving Rosalie in darkness. Her shoulders shook as sobs racked her body. 

In this state, she couldn’t fight a demon on her own. Every second she spent here continually drained her magic, and both she and Malcolm knew it. She needed to save her energy if she had any hope of escape. 

Peggy wouldn’t let her down. Peggy would make sure someone followed her trail. Was it so wrong to hope that it might be a revived superhero from the 1940s? 

Rosalie hung her head and let the tears flow.  _ Steve,  _ she thought,  _ I need you. I need you, just like I needed Bucky. I need you to come back to me. Like you promised so many years ago.  _

* * *

**_Brooklyn, 1943_ **

“Here you go!” Rosalie patted the paper bag full of groceries. “You’re all set. Have a good day!” 

Johnny grinned over the top of the bag. One of the local kids, it was the first time he’d gone shopping for his mother. “Thanks, Miss Archer!” 

“Be careful, the bag’s heavy.” She tilted her head, watching him head towards the door. 

“Don’t worry, I got it. ‘Sides,” Johnny glanced towards the door, “I think you’re gonna be busy.” 

The bells chimed on the front door. “You’re probably right. Be safe getting home, okay?” 

Johnny giggled. “You worry too much, Miss Archer. Bye!” He held the door open for a new group of customers.

Rosalie stepped around the counter, prepared to greet them. Army boys, all in uniform. She thought of Bucky, and Steve, but they weren’t here right now. Two camped out by the door, like they were guarding the place. Another tall blonde man strode in like he’d been here before. She blinked, because while his face looked familiar, but the rest of him did not. 

Broad shouldered, the brown Army uniform strained to fit him, like the seams might burst. Even with her in heels, he stood a head taller than her. He stopped in front of her, ducking his head. “Hey, Rose,” Steve Rogers said. If not for his voice, she might have thought he was someone else. But she knew those eyes, those cheekbones.

“Steve?” Rosalie murmured, crossing the space between them. One hand reached out to touch him, but she pulled back. Was this a stranger with Steve Rogers’ face? 

He grinned, sheepishly, running a hand over his short hair. “It’s me, doll,” Steve said. “Some things have changed.” 

“Some?” She rocked up on her toes. “Steve, you’ve never been  _ taller _ than me before! What happened?” 

“It’s a lot to explain.” 

Rosalie grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him into the back room. “You’re going to try.” 

Her father sat at the small table, flipping through the newspaper with one hand while the other stirred sugar into his tea. Beside him were the morning’s orders, organized and ready to be placed. Lucas lay across his feet. The dog gave a soft woof, peering at Steve with wise eyes. Sterling looked up from his cup of tea. “Rosalie?” he asked, getting up from his seat. “Is everything okay?” 

“I’m not sure yet. This,” she jabbed her finger at the soldier, “is Steve.” At Sterling’s blank look, she added, “ _ My  _ Steve.” 

“Mr. Archer,” Steve said, nodding towards Sterling. 

He blinked. “Okay,” Sterling said slowly. “That’s - different.” 

“He’s going to explain.” Rosalie clutched Steve’s hand. If she let him go, maybe she wouldn’t get the boy she remembered back. 

“And you can explain it to me after. I’ll watch the floor.” Taking his tea with him, Sterling excused himself. Lucas bumped Rosalie’s hand with his nose before following his master. 

She collapsed into the chair Sterling left. “Steve, what did you let them do to you?” she whispered, squeezing his fingers. “Enlisting is one thing, but this is a bit much.” 

Steve held his breath. For years, she’d listened to his breathing, knew the times when he struggled for air, when the asthma was too much. The air didn’t rattle in his chest. “It was an experiment,” he said. “To create a supersoldier.” 

“How?” Did they hurt him? Did Steve know what would happen? 

“A serum. It changed... everything.” Steve knelt in front of her, holding out his hands. Even those were larger than she remembered. “I’m stronger, faster, healthier. I can help my country.” 

Rosalie cupped his cheek. Steve fumbled, unsure of himself, finally resting one hand against her knee. “You could have done that as you were,” she reminded him. 

He shook his head. “Not in the military.” 

“There are other ways.” 

“Not for me.” 

Steve always stood by his convictions, though she never imagined he’d go this far to prove them. No one should have to change who they were, on the inside or outside, in order to find their place in the world. “You’ll be safe?” Rosalie asked, biting her bottom lip. 

Both of her boys would be on the front lines, where Rosalie couldn’t follow them. But they wouldn’t be the men she cared for if they weren’t willing to sacrifice everything for the greater good. As an angel, her job was to support them on their journey, not to change their minds. If Steve wanted to fight, she’d have to let him go. 

But the tether between her, Steve, and Bucky was stronger than ever. Rosalie knew the truth in her bones. They were her chosen, the two souls she was put on this earth to protect. 

When they were all together again, she would make it official. She would tell them what she was and apologize for hiding it for so long. And she would bind her life to theirs, as she should have done years ago.

Steve rested his chin on her knee. “As safe as I can, doll.” One corner of his mouth quirked up, “And if I see Bucky, I’ll make him do the same.” 

“Buck might not recognize you.” Rosalie ran her fingers through his hair. She needed to touch him, to remind herself that he was real. “I almost didn’t.”

“Nah. He’ll know.” Steve closed his eyes under her gentle hands. “I didn’t get to say goodbye and well, it ain’t like I got my own family to see. I had to come to see you.”

“Steve.” Rosalie blinked back tears. “I’ll always be here for you. You know that.” He just didn’t know how deep that commitment went.

He chuckled. “I thought you were Bucky’s girl.” 

“I don’t belong  _ to _ anyone. I belong alongside both of you.” She held her breath. “Will you allow me to do something before you go?” 

“Of course. Anything for you.” 

If she couldn’t follow her boys to Europe, at least she could bless Steve. Bucky already received his blessing, the night of the World Expo. This way, a little piece of Rosalie could travel with them. 

Drawing her angelic magic into her palms, she cradled his face with both hands. Steve looked up at her, eyes filled with trust. A soft glow illuminated him, mimicking a halo. Rosalie pressed the softest kiss to his forehead. The magic washed over him. 

“May the warmth of an angel’s light comfort and guide you on your path ahead,” she breathed, thumbs smoothing over his jawline. “May your choices be clear, your heart be open, and your soul at peace.” 

As she spoke the words, she wove the strands of magic around Steve’s heart. Her heartbeat synced with his. Something inside her soul stirred, recognizing him as one of her chosen. Instinct tugged at her, wanting to claim him right then and there. Rosalie could not bind herself to him without Bucky here too. She poured her magic into Steve, weaving the strongest protection spell she could. 

“Rogers?” 

A voice startled them both. Rosalie dropped her hands, the glow winking out. A woman stood in the doorway in full dress uniform, hair in victory curls, and lipstick as red as Rosalie’s own. “We’ll need to leave if we’re to catch our plane,” she said, her British voice crisp and professional. 

“Yeah, I know.” Steve got to his feet, towering over Rosalie in her seat. He squeezed her hand. “Can I write to you?” he asked, ducking his head. 

Rosalie dabbed at her eyes. “Please do,” she said. “Let me know where I can send my letters back to you.” 

“I will.” Steve kissed her cheek. Rosalie resisted the urge to fist her hands into his uniform and keep him right where he was. “I’ll see you soon.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

Steve smiled, one last time. The British woman touched his elbow and led him out with the other Army personnel. Rosalie watched them go, her eyes on Steve until he disappeared from view. 

Both of her chosen were gone. She wanted to chase Steve down and beg him to stay, to bring Bucky home to her. But it wouldn’t change anything.

She cradled her head in her hands. One sob got out, then two. She never heard someone approaching.

“Hey.” Sterling crouched before her, resting a hand on her arm. “I’ve got you. I’m here.”

Rosalie buried her face into Sterling’s shoulder. No matter how old she got, she still needed her dad. He wrapped his arms around her, rocking her like she was seven years old again.

“I just,” she got out between gulps of air, “I feel like I’m never going to see either of them again.”

“You don’t know that.” Sterling smoothed a hand over her hair. “I felt your blessing. Steve has all the protection you can give him.”

“They’re going to war. I should have found a way to keep them here in Brooklyn.” Or she could have joined the Army too. 

“That’s not how this works.” Sterling wiped at her eyes with his handkerchief. “You cannot change their fate. We are to support them throughout their path.”

“Even if it means they might die?”

Sterling smiled, sadly. “Eventually, you’ll stop aging and they’ll grow old,” he reminded her. “Even if you bind your life to theirs, the end will still come.”

“But not today,” she sniffled. “Not right now.”

He cradled the back of her head with one hand. “Not today,” Sterling agreed. “You still have time. Time to decide on your chosen, time to figure out your path. Just like Steve and Bucky have chosen theirs.”

Rosalie knew he was right, but it didn’t ease her heart. “Was it any easier for you?” she whispered. “When you found your calling?” 

Sterling hummed softly. “It was a different time,” he said. “I always knew I didn’t have a chosen. My life, my duty, is to the community around me, not one specific person.” Sterling paused. “Or two, as the case might be.” 

“But are you satisfied?” 

“I am happy, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“That’s not the same thing.” 

“Well.” Sterling shrugged. “Things changed when we lost your mother. But I have you, I have the shop, I have everything I could ever want in these four walls. You’ll know when you find what will put your soul at ease.” 

She blew out a breath. “I’ve already found them.” 

“And if that is your path, I will support you. When the war is over, you can discuss it with them.” 

They both knew this day was coming. Rosalie would find her purpose and bind herself to her two oldest friends. They couldn’t ask for a better guardian angel. 

Today, she needed her father. Sterling would keep her grounded in the present moment. Rosalie’s worry wouldn’t help her boys come home any sooner. 

All she could do now was wait and pray. 

* * *

**_The Facility - Present Day_ **

Malcolm Nash drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. He loved watching the captives via security feeds. It wasn’t the first time he’d indulged in kidnapping, and it wasn’t going to be the last. He especially liked watching Rosalie Archer, curled up in the corner of her cell, hidden behind her wings.

The angelic bitch need to remember who was in charge. Every cell in his body wanted to snap her in half. He had two centuries’ worth of curbing his impulses. Otherwise, she would already be dead.

But oh, how delicate she looked, putting on a brave face while terrified. Malcolm could taste her fear in the air. It was a drug to him. A regular human’s terror was nice, but an angel’s was even more delicious. Sweeter, like a fine wine aged to perfection.

When this was over, Malcolm would rip her heart out. Until then, he had other business matters to distract him.

Beside him, Dr. Connor Auerbach clicked his tongue. “She is holding up better than our other specimen,” Auerbach said. His eyes never left the security footage. “You adjusted your wards as you promised?”

Malcolm snorted. “They’re strong enough to hold her, if that’s what you’re asking. Could always add another dose of my magic,” he flicked his fingers, “to make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”

“Need I remind you, we do want her alive.”

“For now.” Auerbach promised Malcolm the killing blow. “And the old man is still kicking, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Auerbach frowned. “Alive, yes. Useful to us, at the moment, no. No thanks to you.”

“You said no killing. I did not kill him.” 

“You cut his wings off.” 

“Bah.” Malcolm waved a hand. “They’ll grow back.” Not like Malcolm actually cared. Next time he would cut off each toe one by one until the cretin complied.

John Sterling Archer refused to die. Malcolm could wait. He knew how to torture someone, to bring them to the edge of their sanity. This was only the beginning. 

And Archer’s sweet daughter fell into their trap too. 

A set up like this took money, and Malcolm was a businessman at heart. How Auerbach found Malcolm wasn’t his concern. Shady dealings always led to more shady dealings, and Auerbach made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. The money alone was worth it. Killing angels was an unexpected bonus. 

Malcolm knew what HYDRA was. The deepest, darkest evils never went away, they only changed forms. 

Just like demons themselves. 

“Still,” Auerbach tapped his chin. “We need to convince her to use her angelic magic. Harnessing such pure energy will power our technology for years to come.” 

“I can give you all the demonic magic you want,” Malcolm reminded him. “You don’t seem interested.” 

“Because I already know what your magic can do,” Auerbach said. “It holds no mystery for me.” 

Malcolm growled under his breath. Auerbach had power, but he wasn’t a demon. He was just a human, and all humans had a weakness. “Really, now?” Magic seeped into his words, pressing against the mental shields surrounding Auerbach’s brain. “We could just… play with her. See how far we can break her before her powers manifest of their own free will.” 

Auerbach’s eyes slowly turned black. Malcolm grinned. He never tired of watching his influence take over another’s soul. “Hmm. It’s a possibility,” Auerbach murmured. 

“The only possibility.” Malcolm stood up, stepping into Auerbach. He cupped the other man’s cheek, thumb smoothing over his jaw. “You’ll like watching me play. You’ll learn so much you can apply to your projects.” 

The black flooded his pupils - and then Auerbach blinked. 

A gun muzzle pressed into Malcolm’s side. “I thought,” Auerbach snarled, “we had a deal, Nash.” Auerbach flicked off the safety. “You are not to use your abilities on myself or any of my agents.” 

Malcolm tilted his head back and laughed. “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he said. He took a step back, holding up his hands in surrender. “You can’t fault a demon for trying.” 

Auerbach’s grip on the revolver never wavered. “I will shoot you dead where you stand,” Auerbach reminded him. “Your continued involvement with our project is precarious, Malcolm. Your magic ensures that the angels cannot escape. I do not need you for my experiments.” 

He shrugged. “Perhaps,” Malcolm said, “but you have to try harder than that to kill a demon.” 

“I know.” Auerbach smiled. It never reached his eyes. “I plan to employ several methods in order to ensure your death. I do hope it won’t come to that.” 

“It won’t.” Malcolm would simply kill Auerbach first. Humans tried to get the upper hand on a demon, and it never ended well. Demons were necessary in order to keep the natural order of the world. Otherwise, the angels would win, and Malcolm couldn’t have that. 

Dear Dr. Auerbach thought he and HYDRA were above all of that. Malcolm knew the truth. Mankind were merely their playthings. Nothing HYDRA did would change that. 

Malcolm flopped into his seat, folding his hands in front of him. “You won’t need the gun, Connor. Am I allowed to call you Connor?” 

Auerbach held his gaze. Then he slid the revolver back into his jacket. “No, you cannot,” Auerbach said. “You work for us, Nash, not the other way around.” 

“And my men built this place.” Malcolm shrugged. “Wouldn’t want the Avengers to find out about it.” 

“They will not find us.” 

“For now.” Malcolm wasn’t above creating the chaos he craved. One anonymous message to the right people would have superheroes crawling all over the place. Malcolm filed the idea away for later. 

Malcolm liked Dr. Connor Auerbach. He didn’t want him dead yet. 

“Are you going to stand in our way?” Auerbach side-eyed him. “Best to tell me now, so we avoid problems down the road.” 

“Not as long as you remember who you’re dealing with.” Malcolm smiled, all teeth. 

“You should do the same.” Auerbach spun on his heel and headed for the door. “Do not engage with either of the angels until I say to. That is a direct order.” The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Malcolm alone in the control room. 

Malcolm snorted. He didn’t take orders from HYDRA. It was nothing more than a business deal to him. Sometimes business deals went south. 

The Archer angels escaped him once. Malcolm wouldn’t let it happen again. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve find the abandoned warehouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Blood

The abandoned warehouse on the edge of town didn’t look like anything special. It could have been in any city, in any time period - the kind of building in the background of every American city. If something was hidden here, no one would ever know. 

In the middle of the day, the lot was eerily quiet. Windows were smashed in and graffiti graced every concrete wall. Broken bottles and empty beer cartons littered the floor. Metal racks, presumably left by the previous owners, were stacked haphazardly around the open space. Crates were flipped over like makeshift chairs. 

“You’re sure this is the place?” Bucky asked, kicking aside a beer can. “Think we’re too early for tonight’s frat party.” 

“It’s the address in Dr. Sterling’s notes,” Steve said. “She was interested in this place for a reason.” Somehow he doubted it was so she could join the partying here. 

They’d already been to Dr. Sterling’s apartment and checked with her neighbors. According to the girl next door, Dr. Sterling said she was going away for a couple weeks. “She does this sometimes,” the girl, Marjorie, told Steve. “It’s not anything unusual. She always comes back. And she asked me to take care of her cat.” 

Steve trusted Peggy’s instincts. Something here didn’t add up. He and Bucky poured over the files, hoping to find something Peggy and Sharon missed. This warehouse was their last lead. 

Steve reached behind him, touching the shield strapped to his back. Its weight was both familiar and reassuring. 

Bucky nudged his shoulder. “You know, you could’ve left the shield in the compound.” 

“I know, but something told me to bring it.” He wasn’t here as Captain America - he was just Steve Rogers, doing a favor for an old friend. “We might need it.” 

“Unless we find a bunch of rowdy partiers, I doubt it.” 

“I don’t see you hiding the arm. Or leaving your gun behind.” 

Bucky flexed his metal fingers. His henley covered the red star, but his leather jacket was back in the car. Steve liked the way the fabric stretched over his shoulders, but those were thoughts for later. “Jacket was getting hot,” Bucky said, shrugging. “Besides. I don’t think we’ll be here long.” 

Steve hoped Bucky was right. If they didn’t find anything here, he wasn’t sure where to go next. Steve narrowed his eyes, spotting an open window. It stretched from floor to ceiling, and the glass had been cleared away. They weren’t the first ones to sneak into this place. “Let’s head in through here.” 

Turning to the side, Steve stepped through the opening and into the building. Sunlight filled the space in bright patches, thanks to the holes in the roof. More debris was scattered across the floor. 

Bucky grunted behind him. “Maybe we should come back later,” he said, kicking an empty Keystone Light box. “See if any of the partiers know anything.” 

“Maybe.” If they didn’t find any other clues, Steve would consider it. Nothing they heard so far suggested that Rose Sterling hung out with a college-age crowd. All the neighbors said she was friendly, but tended to keep to herself. “Maybe they’ve seen Mr. Archer’s twin, too.” 

Bucky shook his head. “Still think it’s funny you can’t call him Sterling.” 

“Could you call him that to his face?” 

“Nah. Disrespectful.” 

“Exactly.” 

A stack of crates and broken wooden boxes were arranged in a semicircle. In the center, ashes and half-burned sticks were all that remained of a fire. Steve imagined the scene, a group of kids huddling around the fire for warmth, passing around a bottle of alcohol. But the scene looked too perfect. A shudder ran up his spine. 

Something else was going on here. Something Steve couldn’t put his finger on yet. 

Steve circled the crates. If they were lucky, something might have been left behind. FRIDAY could analyze it for them back at the compound. Bucky took the opposite side, tossing aside crates with his metal arm and smashing them into the wall. 

“Someone might hear us,” Steve warned. 

“Take it easy, there’s no one here.” Bucky lifted up another crate and paused. He kneeled, examining the ground. “Hey, Steve? Come look at this.” 

Steve crossed the room in a few strides. A set of long black streaks stained the floor, leading back towards the far wall. 

“What does that look like to you?” Bucky asked, pointing to the marks. 

“Like something was dragged across the floor.” Steve moved more crates aside to expose the trail. He ran his fingers through one streak. Soot covered his fingertips. “Why cover these up?” he asked. 

“To keep anyone from looking.” Bucky worked in the other direction. “The marks start here.” 

It looked like someone stepped through the ashes of another fire and tracked the soot throughout the building. Several footsteps overlapped each other, like a group converged on one spot. “Can you tell how many people there were?” Steve asked, crouching beside Bucky. 

Bucky’s good hand twitched, counting the different sets of footprints. “At least four. One,” he pointed to a smaller set, “is more delicate than the others. ” 

“Maybe made by a woman?” Perhaps it belonged to their Dr. Sterling. 

“Maybe.” Bucky’s eyes followed the marks. “These look like military-grade boots. It looks like someone was dragged from here” - he pointed to the mess in front of them - “over that way.” He pointed to the first marks he’d found. 

Steve backtracked, clearing out the rest of the crates to find where the marks ended. There, barely visible among the cracks in the concrete, was a square outline in the flooring. 

“Trap door?” Steve asked, already knowing the answer. 

Bucky balled his metal hand into a fist and punched the floor. The concrete splintered along those perfect square lines. Shaking off the impact, he wiggled his fingers beneath a chunk and lifted it up. 

Inside, a ladder led into the dark below. “Trap door,” Bucky confirmed. “Think Dr. Sterling was something.” He glanced up at Steve. “Do you want to check it out?” 

Steve’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Frowning, he checked the display. “Stark,” he answered. 

“Captain,” Tony Stark’s smooth voice returned. “Mind telling me where you and the Tin Man ran off to? Are you getting married in Vegas? Natasha and I have a bet.” 

“Do you honestly think we’d elope without telling you first?” Steve rolled his eyes. Their relationship was still new, and definitely too soon to think about tying the knot. 

“Good, because I was about to be offended if you didn’t invite me to the ceremony.” Leave it to Tony to sound nonchalant and worried at the same time. “Where are you?” 

“Outside Albany. We’re helping a friend.” 

“And yet you didn’t bring any of your other Avenger friends along.” 

“What’s Stark want?” Bucky muttered, crossing his arms. “We gotta go before someone finds us here.” 

“It’s nothing you need to worry about, Tony,” Steve said, waving off Bucky’s concerns. They weren’t going to leave until they found Peggy some answers. “Did something happen on your end?” 

Tony huffed. “Then why did you take the shield?” 

“For the same reason Bucky brought his guns.” Maybe Steve was being paranoid, but most warehouses didn’t have trap doors built into the floor. “We’re checking out a lead. I’ll let you know if we find something.” 

“A lead on what? Cap, what are your coordinates?” 

“We’re fine.” Steve shook his head. “Goodbye, Tony.” 

“Don’t you hang up on me-”

Steve ended the call, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “Stark knows we’ve left the building,” he told Bucky. “He might send all the Avengers after us.” 

“We could have involved them,” Bucky pointed out. “Natasha could have gleaned something from the files that we didn’t.” 

“Too late now,” Steve said. “We found a secret path. We have to check it out.” Making sure his gear was in place - shield, gun, and flashlight - he nodded to Bucky. “You first or me first?” 

“Punk.” Bucky pushed Steve towards the ladder. “I opened the doorway. You first.” 

Perhaps they should have waited and asked for Tony and the others to help. But Sharon brought this mission to him. Steve wouldn’t let Peggy down - she was relying on them to find her friend. 

And given what they already found in this abandoned warehouse, Steve now worried for Dr. Sterling’s safety. 

Steve squared his shoulders. “Let’s get this over with.” 

He swung his legs into the tunnel and started to climb. 

* * *

At the bottom of the ladder, a tunnel led into darkness. Bucky fished his flashlight out of his pocket and shined it over the dirt walls. The floor was packed solid, evidence it had been used repeatedly. 

He kneeled down, shining the light over the ground. Here, too, were the same drag marks they found in the warehouse upstairs. “They came this way,” Bucky murmured. 

“Then let’s follow them,” Steve said. With his own flashlight in hand, Steve headed off into the dark. 

Bucky sighed. Something about this place didn’t sit right with him. Like they were being watched, but he couldn’t spot any recording equipment built into the walls. Nor could he see any metal supports to keep the roof from collapsing. People didn’t build secret tunnels underneath old warehouses for no reason. Who better to explore it than two supersoldiers? 

The tunnel wound underground. Water dripped along the walls. More than once, the floor sloped downward, taking them deeper and deeper. They weren’t beneath the warehouse anymore. The longer they followed the path, the more it felt like they were entering another world. 

It should have bothered him, but he’d faced worse in the past. Bucky had Steve beside him now. Together, they could take on anything. 

Half an hour later, the path ended. The dirt walls surrounded a heavy metal door, reinforced with steel locks. The only light came from the soft glow of the keypad on the right side. 

Bucky held his flashlight between his teeth and poked at the keypad. “Should’ve brought Stark,” he muttered.

“Don’t need him.” Steve pulled a multitool out of his pocket. Flicking his wrist, he selected a screwdriver. Then he passed Bucky his flashlight. “I know a thing or two. Hold the lights steady.” 

Aiming both lights at the keypad, Bucky watched Steve go to work. He unscrewed the panel to reveal the mechanics inside. “When did you learn to hotwire a lock?” Bucky asked. 

Steve shrugged. “It’s not that different from when we used to steal vehicles in Nazi Germany.” 

“At least then we were stealing from Nazis.” Leaving one of the lights trained on Steve, Bucky waved the other one around. The walls didn’t have any markings. “These are not Nazis.” He paused. “Hopefully.” 

“We’ll find out, I guess.” Brow furrowed in concentration, Steve crossed one wire, then another. Sparks illuminated the space with the brightest flash. Bucky blinked the sunspots away. 

And the door whooshed open. 

“See?” Steve pocketed his multitool. “Nothing to it.” 

“Remind me to have you rewire one of Stark’s robots.” 

“As long as you’re there to help when Tony finds out about it.” 

“Done.” 

White light flooded the dark tunnel. Bucky winced at the sudden brightness. A hallway stretched out before them. The walls were stainless steel, cold and sterile. Recessed lights in the ceiling led the way. He flicked off the flashlights and handed Steve’s back to him. “Well,” Bucky said, “looks like we found something.” 

“I’d say.” Steve glanced behind him at the dirt tunnel. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” 

“Me too.” It was too late to turn back now. Bucky checked his weapon again, reminded himself that it was there. His knives, too, were strapped to his hip, with another hidden in his boot. With luck, they wouldn’t need them. “Let’s see what we can find.”

The hallway stayed silent. The only sound was of their boots against the concrete floor. Tension crept up his shoulders. Bucky breathed past it. This place reminded him of any one of the hundreds of facilities he’d been in as the Winter Soldier. 

He ignored those memories. They would only distract him from the task at hand. 

The first door they found didn’t have a keypad barring access. A deadbolt locked the door shut. “Did Scott teach you how to pick locks, or did you learn that from Dernier too?” Bucky asked, examining the lock. James Dernier of the Howling Commandos had always been the best at this sort of thing. They could have used him now. 

“I don’t think we have to,” Steve said. Then he lowered his shoulder and slammed into the door. 

The lock gave way and the door swung open. 

The stench of old, dried blood filled the air. Bucky breathed through his mouth so he didn’t vomit. The blood coated the floor, soaking into the concrete. Cabinets and counters lined one wall. A metal tray waited with various instruments, including pliers, tweezers, and tongs. 

But a stretcher dominated the room. Its sheets were soaked with old blood. Straps dangled from either side, worn where someone had struggled against their bonds. Bucky closed his eyes, remembering the chair, the pain of the memory wipe. His own screams echoed in his brain. 

Steve covered his mouth, eyes wide as he took in the carnage. “What the hell happened in here?” Steve whispered.

Bucky glanced away from the hospital equipment. Nausea curled in his stomach, but the blood was easier to look at. “Steve,” he whispered, “what is that?” 

The floor was littered with feathers. 

Bucky bent down, careful not to kneel in the blood. Pitch black and coated in more blood, the feathers were bigger than he thought it would be, nearly the size of his forearm, bigger than any other bird feather he’d seen before. He picked one up and dragged a fingernail across it. Beneath the blood, the feather shimmered and glowed. 

“Experimenting on birds?” Steve guessed, standing behind him. 

Bucky shook his head. “The stretcher implies otherwise.” Too many times, he had been the one strapped down in the stretcher. When he closed his eyes, he could still feel the bonds pressing into bare skin. 

“So why the feathers?” 

“Fuck if I know.” Bucky pulled an old cleaning cloth from his pocket. He wrapped up the feather, careful not to damage it, and tucked it into one of his cargo pockets. As he stood up, a wave of nausea hit him.

Steve wrapped an arm around his waist. “Hey. You doing okay?” 

“I’m fine.” It was probably just the stench of all the blood getting to him. “You?” 

“I don’t like this,” Steve admitted. “This whole place feels wrong.” 

“Yeah. Unnatural.” Bucky shuddered. It sent goosebumps down his good arm and a tingle up his spine. “Like we’re not supposed to be here.” 

“I know.” Steve grimaced. “I hope this isn’t Dr. Sterling’s blood.” 

They couldn’t see Peggy for the first time in seventy years and drop the bomb that her friend was dead. There had to be another answer. “SHIELD can run tests on the feather,” Bucky mused. “But that’s going to take time.” 

“And time is something we don’t have,” Steve added. 

“Means it’s time for you to call in back up.” 

“Fury won’t like it.” 

Bucky snorted. “You think I give a shit?” Director Nick Fury hadn’t been thrilled with a former HYDRA assassin joining the Avengers, but Steve vouched for him. Bucky knew his mind was clear. His hands would never be fully clean, but he would use his skills for good from now on. 

“Fair point,” Steve said, digging his phone out of his pocket. He frowned at the screen. “Phone’s dead.” 

“What do you mean?” Bucky snatched it from Steve’s hand. The display turned on, but it couldn’t find a signal. He scrolled through Steve’s contacts and selected Tony Stark. 

Nothing happened. 

Careful not to damage the bloody feather, Bucky checked his own phone. It, too, didn’t have service. “Must be too far underground,” Bucky conceded, passing Steve’s phone back. He slid his own phone into his pocket. “Well? Call it, Cap. What do you want to do?” 

They should head up the way they came, contact the Avengers, and wait for reinforcements. But seeing the state of this room, wondering what sort of torture happened here, Bucky couldn’t turn away. He wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to Peggy’s friend because they arrived too late. 

“We could go back,” Steve offered. 

“Probably should.” 

“Someone might find out we’re down here.” 

“They probably will.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” 

Reaching behind him, Bucky unhooked his gun from his back. “I think we should find Dr. Sterling.” 

“Done.” Steve strapped his shield to his arm. “We promised Peggy. If Tony wants us, he can find us.” 

“If we get into trouble, he’s gonna have to.” 

Steve grinned. “What sort of boyfriend do you take me for?”

“The kind who seeks out fights instead of taking me out on a proper date.” Bucky looked around the room one last time. “Let’s go.” 

Something sinister was at play here. Bucky and Steve had already come this far - they couldn’t turn back now. They had to find Dr. Sterling and the man who looked like Sterling Archer. 

He only hoped they were still alive. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The experiments begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Torture, mentioned past character death, Malcolm is creepy AF

Alone in her cell, Rosalie had plenty of time to think. The visit from Malcolm and Auerbach revealed who she was up against: a demon and a mad scientist. A lone angel, weakened by demonic wards, might not stand a chance. 

But Rosalie wasn’t giving up. Not with her life on the line. Not when her father was still out there. Not when Steve was still alive. 

She refused to let Malcolm win. Rosalie still had a lot of fight left in her. She just needed the right opportunity. 

Her cell door creaked open. Rosalie tensed, expecting Malcolm to waltz back in, but the demonic energy around her never changed. Perhaps they were bringing her another pathetic meal. 

Instead of dropping the tray on the floor and slamming the door, someone lingered inside the doorway. He wasn’t wearing a helmet, though he had the same fatigues and weapons as the other soldiers. Mousy brown hair flopped into his face, and he shook it out of his eyes. 

He took one step in, then two. His eyes flicked back and forth, never looking directly at her face. The tray trembled as he set it down on the floor. “Wow,” he breathed. He shuddered, straightening to his full height. Small and skinny, his fatigues were half a size too big for him. 

She thought of Steve, standing in the alley, fists up and ready to fight. Rosalie blinked. The dim light of her cell reminded her of where she was. 

“Excuse me?” She stared at him, waiting for an answer. 

“There were rumors in the barracks, about an angel in the dungeon.” He stepped back towards the door. His left hand balled into a fist. “You have _wings_.” 

“That’s what the term ‘angel’ implies.” Rosalie eyed him. He couldn’t be more than 20 years old. Barely an adult and working for a demon. 

Tentatively, she reached out with her powers. Even through the demonic wards, she might be able to help him. If Malcolm thralled him into compliance, then an angel could break the hold. 

The recoil slammed into her. Pain spiked behind her eyes. Rosalie gasped, pressing a hand into her heart. Dark magic curled around her, making it hard to breathe. 

He froze, his eyes widening. “Are - are you okay? They won’t be happy if something happens to you.” 

She chuckled through the pain. “Such concern for the _specimen_.” She was nothing more than a science experiment to Auerbach and his men. 

“I was the last to see you. They’ll take it out on me.” 

“Then why are you still here?” Rosalie shook her head. “Run away. While you still can.”

His gaze shifted to her chains. “They said you hadn’t eaten.” 

“That’s not your problem.” 

“If you don’t survive...” The color drained from his face. “It’ll be worse for all of us.” 

Rosalie wanted to pity him. Perhaps her father would have. Sterling had a knack - and a weakness - for picking up strays like this one. Wayward souls were his calling, but it wasn’t Rosalie’s. This boy worked with her captors. He was still responsible for his choices. “What’s your name?”

He blinked. “Charlie.” He tightened his jaw. “Uh - Phillips. You can call me Phillips.” 

“Charlie Phillips,” Rosalie held his gaze. “If you’re that concerned about me, you could get me out of here.” 

Charlie blinked several times. “Uh-huh. Nope. No can do. Not even if you’re a real angel.” 

She spread her wings, revealing her torn, dirty clothing. Her white tank top was now the same dingy grey as her wings. Her jeans were caked in dried blood. Rosalie held out a hand to him. Fresh blood trickled down her palm. “Do I look real to you?” 

Charlie rushed for the door. “You need to eat,” he tossed behind him. “Please.” The last thing she saw was the fear in his eyes before the door closed. 

Not everyone here was under Malcolm and Auerbach’s influence. Maybe there were others here like Charlie. Someone might help her if she could hold out that long. 

Malcolm and Auerbach had plans for her. Rosalie’s time was running out. Who knew what sick and twisted things the demon and the scientist had concocted? She doubted they were going to invite her a tea party and ask to be friends. 

Her stomach growled. Hunger would win out soon. Rosalie squeezed her eyes shut, praying for her father’s safety, as well as her own. When she saw Sterling again, she would hold him tight and remind him how much she loved him. 

Just like Sterling did the first time Rosalie met a demon, almost a century before…

* * *

  
**_Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 1925_ **

Dark magic woke her from a dead sleep. 

It washed over her like a cold wave, crawling up her spine and raising the hair on the back of her neck. Rosalie shivered, pulling the covers over her head. She curled into a fetal position, eyes squeezed shut, waiting it out. 

Light flashed outside her bedroom window. At first she thought it must be lightning from the storm. Rosalie peeked over her blanket. “Daddy?” she whispered. “Mommy?” Her parents were out for the night, leaving her with Mrs. Johnson, their neighbor. Perhaps they were home early. 

Footsteps pounded on the stairs. Her bedroom door flew open. “Rosie?” Sterling panted. “Rosalie?” 

“Daddy!” She sprang out of bed, wrapping her arms around his waist. Rosalie pressed her face into his stomach. “What’s going on?” 

She looked up at him. Dirt streaked across his face, and his tears left tracks in the grime. Blood and sweat soaked through his shirt and onto his jacket. “Daddy?” Rosalie’s voice wobbled. “You’re hurt.” 

His hands shook, pushing her hair out of her face. Bright eyes watched her, like he was afraid she’d disappear if he let her go. “I’m fine,” he protested. “Pack your things. We have to go. Now.” 

“Where’s Mommy?” 

Sterling’s face crumpled. “She’s not coming with us, sweetheart,” he said. “I can’t lose you too.” 

“What do you mean?” She blinked. “Daddy?”

He grabbed her leather bag and tossed her clothes in it. Rosalie’s fingers trembled as she gave him her journal and her favorite teddy bear. Sterling shoved them in without looking. 

Downstairs, something crashed. More footsteps echoed up to them. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” a raspy voice called in the distance. “You can’t run from me forever.” 

Sterling yanked her to him. “Hold onto me,” he instructed, picking her up with one arm. 

She wrapped her legs around his waist. “What about Lucas? And Avery?” The dogs couldn’t stay here either, and Rosalie couldn’t leave them behind.

“Lucas knows to follow. He’ll find us.” He tucked the bag between them. “Whatever you do, Rosie, don’t let go.” 

Taking two steps back, Sterling leaned out the open window. Rain beat against the metal. The front door to their townhouse was wide open, banging against the house in the wind. 

“I know you came for the brat,” the voice came again. “I won’t stop, Archer.” 

Huge wings sprouted from Sterling’s back, tearing through his clothing. Glittering and black, they curled around his shoulders, protecting Rosalie from the falling rain. With one leap, Sterling took off into the cloudy sky. 

She shrieked, pressing her face into his neck. They never, ever showed their wings. It was too dangerous, her parents told her, because no one could know what they were. They didn’t need to show off in order to help the people who needed it the most. For Sterling to fly, Rosalie knew something was very, very wrong. 

A man burst through Rosalie’s bedroom window. His dark hair clung to his neck in clumps, thanks to the rain. His eyes flashed bright red, glowing with dark energy. He threw his head back and howled. 

A spiked tail flicked back and forth behind him. Rosalie blinked the rain from her eyes, but the tail remained. “Archer!” he screamed. “I will find you!” 

“Don’t look, baby,” Sterling murmured. His wings heaved as he struggled to get them higher into the sky. 

“What is that?” Rosalie shook in his arms. 

“A demon.” 

Her heart froze. “Did it come for us?” 

“Yes.” 

“And Mommy?” 

Sterling shuddered. “She tried to stop him.” 

Demons fought angels. They corrupted people, twisted their minds, and created chaos. Angels were supposed to stop them. But sometimes, it wasn’t enough. It never occurred to her that an angel might fail. Especially not one as wonderful as her mother. “And she didn’t?” 

“No, Rosie.” Sterling hung his head. “She didn’t.” 

She tightened her fingers in Sterling’s jacket. They would never see their home Philadelphia again. “She’s not going to follow us,” Rosalie whispered. 

Buildings loomed beneath them. Their home, and the demon within it, faded into the storm. Sterling landed on an empty rooftop, cradling her like she was an infant again. “Your mother,” he said, “was the strongest, most wonderful woman I’ve ever known. We couldn’t let him get to you, Rosalie. Do you understand?” 

“Yes.” Warm tears mixed with the cold rain on her cheeks. “Mommy’s dead.” 

Judith Archer was gone. 

Sobs choked her. Rosalie clamped a hand over her mouth, but she couldn’t stay quiet. She’d never see her mother again. She’d never get homemade cookies, bedtime stories, or good morning hugs. She’d never see her smile or hear her voice. 

Rosalie never got to say goodbye. 

Judith never hurt a soul. She and Sterling worked together to keep the wayward souls of their neighborhood out of trouble. Even knowing what demons were, and what they did, it wouldn’t sink in that one murdered her mother. 

“Hey.” Sterling pushed her hair out of her face. His eyes too were red and puffy. “Mommy is right here.” Sterling pointed to her heart. “Where she’s always been. She watches over us now. And we’re going to get out of this.” 

“And what about our home? And the dogs?” Lucas and Avery couldn’t fly like angels could, and Rosalie needed to know they were okay. 

“Lucas will follow our trail. Avery…” Sterling kissed her forehead. “Avery’s with your mother now, love.” 

Rosalie bit back a wail. Avery, her mother’s golden retriever familiar, slept in her bed most nights, save for this one. She helped Rosalie not feel so alone when her parents were gone. How could a demon take her mother and her mother’s familiar, too? 

“I know.” Sterling’s voice broke. He drew a breath to steady himself. “We have friends we can stay with, but we have to fly as long as the storm can hold us.” He set her down on her feet. “Can you follow me, Rose?” 

“I can do it,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “For Mommy.” Judith believed in her. Judith loved her. Now it was Rosalie’s turn to take care of Sterling. 

“That’s my girl.” Sterling kissed her forehead. “Show me your wings. And don’t stop flying until I tell you to.” 

Rosalie straightened to her full height. Her nightgown stuck to her skin. White, iridescent wings emerged from her back, much smaller than Sterling’s. 

Sterling took her hand, carrying her bag in the other. Together, they took off into the night.

* * *

  
**_The Facility, Present Day_ **

Her cell door slammed into the wall. 

Rosalie jerked awake. Four soldiers marched in, then turned on their heels to face the door. Auerbach waited behind them, his cold gaze sweeping over her cell. 

“Specimen number 74310,” he said. “Your presence is required in the lab.” 

“Go to hell,” Rosalie snapped. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

One soldier yanked on her left wing, hauling her to her feet. “Hey!” She kicked him, but the soldier dodged her weak blow. “That hurts!” 

“That was the point.” Auerbach tilted his head. “Come willingly, and this will be easier.” 

“You’re planning to experiment on me. Why would I be willing?” 

Auerbach crossed the space between them and stopped before her. “You are worth so much more to me alive,” he said. “It would be a shame to kill you already. Will you comply?” 

Of course she didn’t want to go with him. Rosalie wanted to go home, to find her father and to see Steve. Maybe there would be a chance to escape once she was outside of her cell. Rosalie would take her chances. 

So she said nothing at all, staring down Auerbach and his mismatched eyes. 

“That’s what I thought,” he said. He stroked a hand down her other wing. “Unhook her.” 

The soldier dropped her wing. Rosalie curled into herself, expecting them to remove her chains around her wrists and ankles. Instead the soldier unhooked her chains from the wall, holding it like a dog on a leash. 

“Just in case you think about running,” Auerbach said. The expression on his face never changed. “I noticed you haven’t been eating.” 

“I’ve had worse,” she muttered. Like that flight from Philadelphia, the night her mother died, but she wasn’t about to give Auerbach any ideas.

“Perhaps.” Auerbach shrugged. “We shall see.” He waved his hand. “Blindfold her.” 

A soldier jerked a heavy burlap sack over her head. Rosalie reached up to pull it up, but the others held her firm. The fabric reeked like a wet, used gym sock left in the bottom of a drawer for a week. Rosalie gagged, but there was nothing in her stomach to come up. 

They led her forward like a horse going to market. To them, she was nothing more than a science experiment. Rosalie held her head high, even when she wanted to bow and break. 

Their path twisted and turned. Rosalie couldn’t keep track of where they were. At least there weren’t any stairs, up or down. 

Several minutes later, she heard the creak of metal hinges. Someone shoved her from behind. Her wrists grew heavy with the weight of her chains. 

“Remove the hood,” Auerbach said. 

After so long in the dark, the stark white and sterling silver of the room stung. Rosalie flinched, squeezing her eyes shut. She thought of her own pediatric offices, where she decorated the walls with friendly posters and soft colors. Going to the doctor shouldn’t be scary. Rosalie did her best to ease her patients’ fears. 

A gurney waited in the center of the room, straps dangling from either side. Malcolm leaned back against the counter, grinning. 

“Hey, babe,” Malcolm said, like they were meeting up for coffee. “Long time no see.” 

Rosalie turned for the door. The two guards aimed their machine guns at her face. “I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” Auerbach said. He picked up a tablet, tapping at the screen. “Bullet holes would be most distressing.” 

“For you or for me?” she muttered. 

Images flashed through her head, each one worse than the last. Humanity was curious by nature. They wanted to know everything. They wanted to _test_ everything. 

Who knew what a pair like Malcolm and Auerbach would do? 

“Strap her down.” Auerbach flicked a hand to the soldier closest to him. 

Two soldiers grabbed her by her arms, and carried her over to the gurney. Rosalie kicked and thrashed. Her chains smacked their legs, but they never stopped. “Don’t do this,” she begged. One planted a knee in her chest and held her down while the other strapped down her legs. “You’re hurting me.” 

Malcolm leaned over her. Nicotine lingered on his breath. She turned her head, refusing to look at him. “We’ll do worse if you don’t cooperate,” he said, stroking her cheek. Rosalie shuddered. “We want to see what you can do.” 

“Then drop the wards.” 

“But then you’ll try to escape,” Malcolm countered. “And we can’t have that. It took me so long to find you.” 

She said nothing, staring at the counter beyond. A tray sat there, waiting, filled with syringes and vials. “What are you going to do?” she asked, not expecting an answer. 

“Your biology is unlike anything we’ve encountered before,” Auerbach said. “We seek the power within you. If you will not give it willingly, then we will take it from you.” 

Another strap crossed over her chest. Only then did the soldiers let her go. “That’s not how this works,” she said. Some of the pressure in her lungs wasn’t just from her bonds. 

“That’s what the last angel we had said,” Auerbach said. “He was wrong.” Setting his tablet aside, he pulled on a pair of latex gloves. Another soldier brought over a lab coat. Auerbach held out his arms while his man fitted the coat onto him. “Malcolm tells me you’ve yet to hit a century old. I wonder if that means your abilities will be different. Shall we see?” 

Again she tried to slip her wrists out of her chains. Again, she scraped metal against skin until she bled. “You can’t make me,” she protested. The fear in her heart knew that, maybe, he could. 

Malcolm gathered a ball of energy into his hand. Black storm clouds formed, crackling with tiny bolts of red lightning. Malcolm held it out over Rosalie’s heart. “Maybe he can’t,” Malcolm reminded her, “but I can.” 

A snarl ripped from her throat. Rosalie curled her hands into fists, white light seeping from between her fingers. Malcolm’s wards were thinner here than in her cell. Had she been at full strength, she could have overpowered them. 

But she wasn’t. Her magic struggled to find enough power to set her free. Everything in her screamed to destroy the demon in front of her. 

Auerbach strapped on a pair of goggles. Behind the heavy plastic, one blue eye and one brown grew wide. “Just as we predicted.” He snapped the gloves on his wrist, coming forward. “Hold her there, Malcolm.” 

Magic swelled within her. Rosalie arched up off the gurney, but the bonds held her in place. “Fuck you,” she spat out. She wanted - she needed - to destroy Malcolm. But not like this. Not when she couldn’t control herself. 

Tears streaked from her eyes. Malcolm lowered his energy closer to her chest. Her power was there, at the tips of her fingers, and she just needed one more push to gain her freedom. 

“You know what will happen if I press this into you?” Malcolm whispered. His irises faded from brown to red. The white parts darkened until they were black. “My magic will spread throughout each part of your body, poison your blood, and stop your heart from beating.” He moaned, closing his eyes. “It would be a most delicious death.” 

“And I,” Rosalie ground out through clenched teeth, “will fight you. Until my last breath.” 

“You’re too weak.” His other hand stroked her hair, like one would a lover. She shuddered, hating the thought of him touching her at all. “It’s a pity, really. Your father had more fight left in him than you do.” 

Her vision whited out. “Dad?” 

Sterling was here. 

Malcolm had Sterling. 

Rosalie screamed. Her tenuous hold on her magic broke. White light burst from her fingertips. Sobbing, she aimed for Malcolm above her. 

But the magic couldn’t be controlled. It split into several orbs floating around her, protecting her. A handful attacked Malcolm’s energy. White and red lightning danced above Rosalie. 

“Look out!” someone shouted. Another orb lashed out, tearing through the stainless steel wall. Rosalie heard the wall splintering, but she didn’t care. Her magic wasn’t designed to hurt anyone, but she needed to defend herself. 

“Daddy,” she whimpered. 

Ignoring her, Auerbach continued with his experiment. Bypassing the tray of medical supplies, he reached for the machine tucked in the corner. Anywhere else, she might have thought it was a vacuum cleaner, with a long tube connected to a larger base. At the end of the tube, a triangular opening waited. 

Auerbach flipped a switch. A low hum filled the room. Rosalie’s magic swirled around, like a mini tornado, seeking any means of escape. 

And the vacuum sucked up each orb, one by one. 

“That’s it,” Auerbach murmured. “Keep her where she’s at, Nash.” 

Malcolm growled, bracing his feet along the floor. The seething black ball wavered. With her magic disappearing, Malcolm’s won out, growing stronger again. Rosalie’s chest tightened, preparing for the worst. “I’m trying,” Malcolm spat. 

“Even now,” she muttered between her sobs, “you’re not strong enough to kill me. My father resisted you. I will, too.” 

She sank inside herself, seeking the well of magic within her. Rosalie’s eyes flooded pure white. Her tangled hair floated around her face. The remaining orbs stuttered in midair, fighting Auerbach’s vacuum. 

Malcolm’s face twisted into a grimace. “Auerbach! Now!” 

Auerbach darted forward, syringe in hand. He jabbed it into Rosalie’s upper arm. An icy cold chill flooded her veins. 

“What are you…” Already her words slurred together, and her tongue felt like wool in her mouth. Darkness appeared at the edge of her vision. Malcolm’s demonic energy won out. The last of her magic disappeared into Auerbach’s magical vacuum. 

“A significant result for our first test,” Auerbach said. 

“Next time I’ll up the wards,” Malcolm said, dismissing his magic. Red lightning sparked around his hands before fading away. 

“We may not need to,” Auerbach countered. Setting the machine aside, he removed his gloves. “I want to know everything she’s capable of.” 

“And then I can break her?” 

Auerbach tilted his head in Malcolm’s direction. “And then she shall be yours, yes.” 

Rosalie tried to move her fingers, her toes, anything. All feeling left her limbs. She was helpless to stop Auerbach or Malcolm now. 

The last thing she saw was Malcolm grinning down at her, waving his fingers. “Sleep well, sweets,” he said. “When you wake up, you and I will play some more.” 

And then the darkness took her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Angel of Mine_ will be on hiatus for the month of November so I can focus on NaNoWriMo. Fear not - AoM is one of my NaNo projects this year, and I will be drafting new chapters! (And hopefully getting a good chunk of this story done, lol) ♥ 
> 
> Posting will resume on December 6, on the same bi-weekly schedule. I'll see you then!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony decides to help his friends, and the enemy knows the Avengers are in the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Canon typical violence

“There’s no contact with Rogers or Barnes at all?” Tony Stark paced the length of the conference room, hands clasped behind his back.

FRIDAY’s smooth voice answered him. “No, boss. Their signal went dead shortly after your last phone call with Captain Rogers.” 

“They’re probably fine,” Natasha Romanoff said, leaning back against the conference table. “It’s not like Steve or Bucky need your permission to leave the compound.” 

Tony waved a hand. “It’s not that,” he said. “I just have a bad feeling about this.” 

Ever the Chitauri attacked New York, Tony wanted - needed - to be ready for the next big disaster. Loki surprised them once. Tony wouldn’t let it happen again. 

The galaxy knew about the Avengers now. Tony worked with SHIELD, providing the Avengers with the best Stark Tech had to offer. They were Earth’s best and last line of defense. 

Their team had grown, too. Bucky wasn’t their only new addition. Wanda, Pietro, Vision, Sam, Scott, Peter, even Loki, everyone filled in and helped out so it wasn’t all on Tony’s shoulders. He’d seen the damage his weapons inflicted upon the world. Tony would spend the rest of his life trying to make it right. 

Still, Tony knew Steve hadn’t told him the full truth earlier. It wasn’t that he begrudged the two supersoldiers time alone - god only knew they’d earned it after seventy years of hell. But who was this friend? And why hadn’t they asked the other Avengers for help? 

“You should relax,” Natasha reminded him. “Pepper won’t be happy if you give yourself a heart attack.” 

“Shut it.” Tony sipped at his coffee - his fifth one of the day. He barely noticed the caffeine in his system anymore. “FRIDAY? What is the last known location of our boys?” 

“Albany, New York.” 

“So they didn’t go far.” Tony glanced down at his watch. His newest and latest suit hid beneath the watch face. With a touch of a button, he’d become Iron Man. “We could just, you know, go for a drive. See what’s going on.” 

Natasha crossed her arms. “You’re worse than a father waiting for his daughter to come home from a date.” 

“You didn’t talk to Steve. He’s not telling me something.” 

She arched an eyebrow. “And you don’t have your own secrets, Tony?” 

“Not like yours,” he shot back. “This isn’t SHIELD bullshit. This is checking on a friend.” 

“That’s what Steve and Bucky are doing,” another voice said. 

Sharon Carter waited in the doorway, one hand on her hip and staring him down. Anyone else would have been intimidated. Tony ignored it. “Do you happen to know where the Capiscle and the Tin Man went off to?” he asked.

Sharon nodded. “I do.” 

“And you’re not worried?” 

“Should I be?” 

Natasha shrugged. “We lost contact with Barnes and Rogers. Neither one has reported in.” 

Sharon’s eyes flicked from Natasha to Tony. “Did they mention anything when you talked to them?” 

“You SHIELD types,” Tony muttered behind the rim of his coffee cup. “Always have to be lying about something.” 

Sharon glared daggers at him. “They’re not doing anything for SHIELD.” 

“So our boys are doing you a favor?” 

“Not me.” Sharon shook her head. “For Peggy.” 

Tony’s face softened. Everyone knew Peggy Carter. Founding director of SHIELD, badass spy, and not someone he wanted to piss off. Peggy was an old friend of his father’s, and he’d always liked her. She made all those stuffy dinner parties of his youth more bearable, just by treating him like a human being. “And what did Peggy want from Steve that she couldn’t ask of us?” Tony would have gone, too. All Peggy had to do was ask. 

She sighed. “Her friend went missing,” Sharon explained. “She asked Steve to look into it. He decided to take Bucky with him.” 

“What do you know about said friend?” Natasha asked, eying Sharon. Natasha’s face didn’t give anything away. 

“I’ve met her once or twice. She’s always been there for Peggy.” Sharon sighed. “Look, they’re just checking out a few leads. It’s nothing they can’t handle.” 

“If it’s so easy, it should be no problem if we want to help too. Right?” Tony looked at Natasha, who nodded. 

Sharon scowled. “Aunt Peggy didn’t ask you, Tony.” 

“But she could have.” Tony flashed her a grin. “You can tell her that, too.” Tony never liked being told what he could and could not do. Now he wanted to go just to spite Sharon. “You up for a little road trip, Nat? We’ll take one of the quinjets.” 

Pushing off the conference table, Natasha brushed unseen dirt off her jeans. “Sure. Sam’s kicking around the compound, too. I’ll go get him.” 

“What about you, Agent Carter?” Tony tilted his head. Annoying Sharon could become his new favorite pastime. “Would you like to join us?” 

Sharon managed the barest smile. “Sadly, I have other obligations. I’ll tell Peggy you’re on it.” She paused, “She may reach out to you.” 

Tony nodded. “Sounds fair.” If Peggy had something to say about it, Tony would do what he did best: smile, nod, and do whatever the hell he wanted to do anyway. As far as he was concerned, he was helping out a friend. Even if Steve and Bucky weren’t in trouble - Tony’s instincts said they were - Tony knew he could lend a helping hand. 

Less than half an hour later, Tony, Natasha, and Sam boarded the quinjet, headed for the last known location of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Maybe Tony was overreacting, like Sharon said, and their help wasn’t needed. 

Or they were rescuing their friends. Tony wouldn’t know until they got there.

* * *

The moment Steve and Bucky stepped out of the bloody lab, sirens blared. The lights flipped from cold white to bright red. The metal walls glowed like something out of a horror movie. 

“Shit,” Bucky muttered, tightening his grip on his gun. “I knew it.” 

“Worry about it later.” Steve glanced around them. “Come on.” He took off down the hallway, Bucky on his heels.

At the next junction, Bucky shot out the lock on the door. Steve lowered a shoulder and rammed into the metal with his shield, causing it to warp and bend. Another sharp kick knocked it down. 

“Intruders!” someone called down the hallway. 

Steve and Bucky took up their positions. 

Steve crouched in front of Bucky, using the shield to guard them both. From behind Steve, Bucky picked off soldiers one by one. Even now, even when the Soldier was no longer in his mind, his brain went into autopilot when a weapon was in hand. 

The first two guards never had time to react. Bucky shot them both as they rounded the corner. Groaning, they hit the ground, incapacitated. 

They made their way down the new hallway, stepping over the fallen. “Look,” Steve murmured, gesturing to the patch on the guards’ uniforms. There, on the right shoulder, was a familiar multi-armed symbol. 

HYDRA. 

“Fuck me,” Bucky muttered. Of course HYDRA would be experimenting in a secret underground lair. He should have seen it coming. 

“At least we know who our enemy is,” Steve said. “Let’s go.” 

They ran down the hallway. Though there were other doors, there wasn’t time to open each one. Perhaps they were more labs. Perhaps they were better off not knowing. 

Bucky focused on the weapon in his flesh hand and on Steve’s footsteps ahead of him. He’d spent a lifetime watching Steve’s back. He could do it for another lifetime more. 

More gunshots rang down the next corridor. Bucky crouched around a corner, picking his targets. One, two, three men down, with quick shots. Steve rushed past Bucky to move ahead. 

One soldier was without a helmet. His mousy brown hair fell into his eyes. He clutched at the gunshot wound in his shoulder. Tears leaked from his eyes as he propped himself up against the wall.

He couldn’t be older than Bucky was when he enlisted, bright eyed and with no idea what horrors lay ahead of him. Under different circumstances, Bucky would have pitied him. 

“You,” Steve held the shield up, protecting his chest. “What’s going on here?” 

“Hail HYDRA,” another solider moaned. Bucky shot him in the other knee. 

The kid blinked scared brown eyes at him. “They talked about you,” he whispered. “The Asset.” 

“Good.” Bucky dropped his voice, remembering the Soldier he’d once been. “So you know what I can do.” 

“They said-” The kid swallowed, hard. The name Phillips was stitched on his vest. “They said the Asset has gone rogue.” 

Bucky shrugged. “That’s one way to put it.” He cocked the gun. “You didn’t answer my friend’s question.” 

Phillips sucked in a breath. “Captain America,” he whispered. “The Avengers are here?” 

“Stop stalling,” Steve said. “What do you know?” Bucky left the gun trained on the kid for good measure. 

Phillips squeezed his eyes shut. “Experiments,” he whispered. “Horrible, disgusting things. The people they have down here…” 

“We know,” Steve said, though they really didn’t. “We found one of the labs. How many people have you killed here?” 

His face paled further. “I didn’t see anyone die. There’s - there’s a new one. A woman. They just took her to the lab. If she survived, I can tell you where her cell is.” 

Bucky pressed the gun to Phillips’ temple. “Who is she?” 

“Specimen 74310,” Phillips whispered. His pants turned dark as he pissed himself. “They didn’t tell me her name.” 

Bucky looked up at Steve, tilting his head. It might be Rose Sterling. Whoever it was, they couldn’t leave her at HYDRA’s mercy. “Where is she?” Steve asked. 

Phillips pointed a shaking hand down the hallway. “Take a left,” he stuttered. “And her cell is the second door on the right.” 

“Thank you,” Bucky said, pulling the gun back from Phillips’ head. “Do yourself a favor, kid. Get out of here while you still can.” 

“Too late for me,” he whispered. “Done things, terrible things.” 

“We all have.” Bucky’s hands would never be truly clean. “But you can change.” 

It wasn’t Bucky’s responsibility to save this kid’s soul. But he was young. Maybe he would still have a chance. 

“We’re wasting time,” Steve said, gesturing towards the hall. “We have to go.”

Phillips collapsed against the wall, eyes closed, moaning. Bucky didn’t give him a second thought as he jumped over him and followed after Steve. 

Every strike against HYDRA was one more step towards redeeming himself. HYDRA made him into a weapon. Now Bucky would use that weapon against them.

* * *

Up in the control room, sirens blared. Red lights lit up every console. Malcolm looked over at Auerbach, raising an eyebrow. “What the fuck is this?” he asked, waving a hand. 

In a perfect world, Malcolm would be headed back to his apartment for a stiff drink and a few moments to himself. Instead he was still here in the facility, fighting a headache from his encounter with Rosalie. 

He could’ve done it. The tiniest slip of his control, and his energy would have coursed through Rosalie Archer’s veins. The darkness would have consumed her and fed Malcolm’s soul for the next decade, if not longer. 

But she fought back. Her power remained intact even after being held by his wards. And Auerbach still wanted the bitch alive for his precious experiments. Malcolm’s patience was wearing thin. The blaring alarms didn’t help. “Shut those fucking things up before I do it for you,” Malcolm snarled, pressing his fingers to his temple. 

Calm as ever, Auerbach stripped out of his lab coat and hung it by the door. The suit beneath remained spotless. “It’s an intruder alarm,” he said. 

“I thought your men were guarding the exits.” 

“They are. We are prepared for every possibility.” Auerbach came over to the main console and tapped at the screens. Security footage lit up the large viewscreen in front of them. Auerbach flipped through each screen until he found what he was looking for. 

Two men ran down the hallway. One wore jeans and a jacket, the other in a henley and military-style cargo pants and boots. The second had a high-tech, semi-automatic rifle. Every time a guard approached, the gunman shot them down. 

On another screen, the two men broke into the lab where they experimented on their first subject. Feathers were still stuck in the dried blood on the floor. “Thought your men were going to clean up that shit,” Malcolm grumbled. “If they had, they wouldn’t have found anything.” 

“An oversight that will soon be remedied,” Auerbach murmured. Tapping the screen again, Auerbach zoomed in on one man’s face. 

Tall, blonde, built like a brick house. A familiar round shield sat on his arm. Red, white, and blue, with a huge star in the middle. 

Malcolm snarled. “Tell me I’m not looking at fucking Captain America in  _ my  _ building.” 

Auerbach blinked. “That is interesting.” 

“Interesting? That’s the only thing you’ve got to fucking say?” 

Everyone knew who Captain America was. So called leader of the Avengers. Super strong, super fast, super fucking annoying with all that “freedom” bullshit. Contacting the Avengers had been Malcolm’s backup plan in case his deal with Auerbach went south. He certainly didn’t want them here unexpectedly. 

Anger warmed his bones. A line of pleasurable fire lit along his spine, and Malcolm bit back a moan. One twitch and his tail would reveal itself. Malcolm saw no need to hide his true nature when his enemies were this close. 

“Well?” Malcolm pointed at the screen. “Who is that with him? Sure as fuck ain’t Iron Man.” Everyone knew Tony Stark. His face was plastered all over Manhattan. Malcolm appreciated Stark’s knack for advertising, but he should have stuck with making weapons. 

Pressing a few buttons, Auerbach zoomed in on the image of the other man. The left hand and forearm was shiny and silver, like it was made of metal. “That’s unfortunate,” Auerbach said. 

“You know him?” 

“We know of him.” Auerbach brought a hand up to his earpiece. “All units on high alert. Captain America and the Winter Soldier have been spotted in the facility.” 

Red flooded Malcolm’s eyes again. Fabric shredded as his tail emerged through the back of his leather jacket. It whipped back and forth, close to Auerbach’s face. 

For now. 

“Are you sure your men can handle an Avenger?” Malcolm didn’t know, or care, who the Winter Soldier was.

“My men are trained for this.” Auerbach eyed the tail. Curiosity filled his one blue eye, then his empty stare returned. “What a lovely weapon you have.” 

“Don’t you look at me like you look at  _ them.”  _ Malcolm’s voice deepened, his words harsh and clipped. “I’m not one of your little experiments. Are you going to get those two out of the base or not?” 

“Of course we are.” 

“I’m going to defend our prizes.” 

“No, you are not.” Auerbach stared him down. “There is still so much we can learn from them. With you, in this state,” he waved a hand towards Malcolm’s tail, “you will do something… unexpected. We cannot ruin our great plans.” 

Malcolm snarled, low in his throat. “I only care about my plans,” he reminded Auerbach. “Not yours.” 

“Pity my employer feels otherwise.” 

Auerbach pressed something underneath the console. A screen popped up beside him. Placing his palm on the monitor, a laser scanned his hand. 

A second set of metal doors whooshed from the ceiling, closing both Malcolm and Auerbach inside the control room. 

“Until such time as I deem it necessary,” Auerbach said, “you and I will stay here. We will monitor the situation via security feed.” 

Malcolm flashed a grin. The once-normal teeth elongated and sharpened, becoming fangs. “I am not one of your experiments,  _ Connor.  _ You do not dictate what I can and cannot do.” 

“Nor can I allow you to disrupt our experiment in progress.” Like nothing was wrong, Auerbach grabbed a bottle of Malcolm’s favorite beer from the control room’s mini fridge. “Care for a drink?” 

He growled. “Maybe I’ll just kill you.” 

“You could,” Auerbach said. “But then you’ll be stuck in here. You need my passcode to release the doors.” He held out the beer bottle. “And if you kill me, the full force of HYDRA will come down upon you. There is nowhere in this world you could go that we could not find you. You would not rest. You would not know peace. And most of all, you wouldn’t get paid.” 

Auerbach leveled his two-colored eyes at him. “Are the lives of two angels worth your own in return?” 

Humans didn’t understand. Destroying the angels was one of Malcolm’s purposes in life. It didn’t matter that Rosalie resisted him. It didn’t matter that Sterling was near death. They would pay for the last time they evaded his clutches. 

But HYDRA’s money was also so, so tempting. He could get more - he always could, this wasn’t his only business deal - but this would fund his operations for the next two decades. The businessman in him needed to think clearly. 

Malcolm snatched the beer out of Auerbach’s hand. Twisting off the cap, he bounced off Auerbach’s chest. Auerbach never flinched. Malcolm knocked back the drink, gulping it down without tasting it. 

Once the bottle was empty, he smashed it against the console. One screen flickered, but everything stayed on. 

“You have one hour,” Malcolm said. “One hour for your men to do their jobs. If they fail, and Captain America and this Winter Soldier are still here? I will fucking destroy them with my bare hands, along with anyone else who stands in my way. Do we have an understanding?” 

“Agreed.” Auerbach wiped down the monitor with his handkerchief. He frowned at the cloth before throwing it away. “Now. Let’s see what our so-called heroes are doing in our base.” 

He took a seat at the console. Security footage filled the large viewscreen, following the two men as they ran down the hallway. Auerbach looked right at home, as if he were watching the evening news. All that was missing was a TV dinner and a beer of his own. 

But Malcolm could not pretend to be so calm. He paced the room, clenching his fists until his nails broke skin. The Archers were his for the taking. No one else could lay a finger on the two angels in the cells below them. 

Not HYDRA, and not the Avengers either. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for hanging with me while I worked on NaNoWriMo! This story now returns to its biweekly updating schedule. The next chapter will drop on December 20. ♥


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve find HYDRA's captive.

Bucky wasn’t sure what he expected to see when they turned the corner. As Phillips described, there was a line of doors on along the right hand side. There should have been guards posted at each doorway, but the hall was eerily empty. The only sound was the beat of their steps and the sirens pounding in Bucky’s ears. 

“This is too easy,” Steve murmured. “If you have captives, you guard them.” 

“Depends on who you captured,” Bucky shot back. He remembered having a team with him sometimes when he was the Winter Soldier. But he wasn’t _part_ of their team. He was the weapon they used to complete their mission. “Here. This is the door.” 

Unlike the other doors they’d seen, this one had a small window with bars over it. The glass was thicker than a normal window; Bucky bet it was bulletproof. Just like the rest, a high tech keyboard waited to the right of the handle. 

Another wave of nausea rocked him, but Bucky breathed through it. The sooner they were out of this place, the better. 

Steve examined the lock, digging in his pocket for his multitool. “Cover me, I can try to rewire it,” he said. “Looks fancier than the last one, though.” 

Bucky shot out the keypad. Sparks flew in the hallway. The lights above them flickered, but remained red. “We don’t have time to mess with it,” he said. “This is easier.” 

Blinking, Steve shrugged. “That works too.” He rested his left shoulder against the door. Bucky did the same, so his metal arm could do most of the work. “On three,” Steve said. “One, two, three!” 

Together the two supersoldiers shoved as hard as they could against the door. Metal scraped against the floor, but the door gave way. 

Nothing prepared Bucky for what waited inside the cell. 

It wasn’t that he’d never seen a dungeon before. A sheen of water coated the floor. It smelled damp, like mold might be growing within the walls. The cot looked like it hadn’t been slept in and there was a tray of uneaten food on the floor. 

Cowering in the corner, a woman was chained to the wall.

Huge angel wings wrapped around her as if protecting her. Her feathers, though dirty and dingy, glowed softly, like they were touched by moonlight. Chains looped around her ankles and wrists, the skin beneath broken and raw. Her jeans were ripped, and her tank top might have once been white. Now it was spotted with dirt and dried blood. 

Lifting her head, she blinked at the sudden light in the room. 

Bucky froze. 

He knew that face. 

_Rosalie._

It couldn’t be her. He wouldn’t put it past HYDRA to use his own memories against him. Bucky’s feet rooted to the floor. He brought up his gun, but couldn’t put his finger on the trigger. He couldn’t shoot someone who had Rosalie’s face. 

The hair was different - longer than Bucky remembered, matted and tangled around her shoulders. A locket hung around her neck, gold with a delicate filigree design on the front, just like Rosalie always wore. Though dirt smudged across her cheekbones and forehead, her eyes were Rosalie’s same hazel. 

But Rosalie shouldn’t be young anymore. Rosalie had been 25 in Brooklyn when Bucky and Steve shipped out. She should have lived a long, happy life, with someone who could love and care for her. She deserved that, much more than Bucky did. This woman hadn’t aged a day since then. 

To see her chained, beaten, held against her will, something inside him snapped. Bucky fell to one knee, struggling for breath. Steve stared at her like she was a ghost. 

She lolled her head. Her gaze flicked back and forth between them like a frightened cat. Recognition registered in her eyes. “Stevie?” she whispered, voice breaking. Then she inhaled sharply. “ _Bucky?_ ” 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Steve swung the shield up over his back. “We’re here to get you out.” He paused, licking his lips. Steve didn’t know what to do, either. “Are you Dr. Rose Sterling?” 

She sniffled, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. More dirt smudged along her cheek. “It’s the name I’m using now,” she whispered. “But my real name is Rosalie Archer.” Her face crumpled. “Are you - are you really here? Am I making this up?” 

Steve took a step back. “That’s not possible. Rosalie Archer should be dead _._ ” 

“I could say the same thing about the two of you. You,” she pointed at Steve, “flew a plane into an ice shelf. And you,” she turned to Bucky, pausing to suck down air, “fell off a train in the winter of 1944.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

Bucky dropped the gun. All three of them startled as it clattered against the dirty floor. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “How do you know that?” 

“Steve sent me a telegram.” She clamped a hand over her mouth, sobbing. “James, I know you. I know you both.” 

“Ma’am.” Steve’s voice wobbled too. “You look like someone we used to know-”

He stopped at her exasperated sigh. “Steven,” she said, and Bucky _heard_ Rosalie there, just like she sounded in his memory. “I’ve known you two since you were children. Do you want me to prove it to you?” She leaned her head back against the wall, chest heaving as she sucked down air. “You two used to hang around my father’s store. You’d hide from bullies in our backroom. Generally because Steve tried to stop them and Bucky had to pull Steve out of a fight.” Her hands curled into fists. “I watched you two grow. Bucky enlisted because he wanted to help his mom and his sisters. Steve, you were so desperate to follow him that you’d do anything.” 

She opened her eyes, staring at Steve. “Including letting the government experiment on you. This?” She gestured to Steve. “I remember a boy, a hundred pounds soaking wet and shorter than me, who never ran from a fight. You came to see me before you shipped out.” 

“And you did some sort of blessing,” Steve murmured. He wiped at his eyes. Bucky knew how much it took to make Steve Rogers cry. 

“Peggy was there, too. She came to see me, after the war.” Hanging her head, her shoulders shook. “I never thought I’d get to see either of you again.” 

“Rosalie.” Somehow, deep in his soul, Bucky knew it was really her. That kind of bond couldn’t be faked. His eyes dropped to her chains. “Did they hurt you?” Then he remembered the lab, the blood on the floor, the black feathers. “What did they do to you?”

She flinched. “Experiments. Something about harnessing my power in order to usher in a new reality.” 

“Your power?” Bucky repeated. He was still processing the sight of her with those huge wings. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Rosalie spread her wings slightly. “I’m an angel. And now they know about us.” 

It all clicked. Years of disjointed memories slotted into place in Bucky’s brain. Whenever he or Steve needed help, be that because Steve picked a fight or Bucky had trouble at home, Rosalie was always there. She always knew when the boys needed her. 

And what he felt on the rooftop in Brooklyn hadn’t been his imagination. Rosalie’s eyes did glow white. She did share something with him. A power, a spell, he didn’t know what to call it. But it was real, and it didn’t scare him. 

“So you’re our… guardian angel?” Steve asked, mouth agape. 

“Something like that. I can explain once we’re out of here.” 

Bucky shook his head as if to clear it. “We’ll talk about it later,” he said. “Are there more of you? Angels, I mean.” 

Rosalie’s face crumpled. “My father-” Her voice broke. “They said they have my father, too.” 

“Sterling is alive?” Steve blinked. Then he tilted his head to the side, thinking. “He’s an angel, of course. He wouldn’t age, either.” 

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Rosalie said, “and I promise I’ll answer every question you have and then some. But not here.” She held out her hands. “We have to go.” 

“I know.” Bucky blew out a breath. “Give me your hands, doll.” 

Rosalie never hesitated. It warmed his heart to know she still trusted him, but Bucky didn’t deserve it. Rosalie knew the man he’d been before the war. That Bucky died when he fell from the train. He curled his metal fingers underneath the band and twisted, hoping to snap it in half. She clenched her jaw, grunting softly as metal dug into her skin. “I”m sorry,” Bucky murmured. 

“It’s alright,” Rosalie said. “Just get it over with.” 

Steve kneeled beside her, examining her ankle. “Looks like it needs a key,” he said.

“Last time they unhooked me from the wall,” she said. Even now, broken and filthy, Rosalie still shined in the darkness. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. “They didn’t bother with the cuffs.” 

Turning her wrist, Bucky fingered the chains. “Cuffs’ll have to go later,” he said. With one sharp yank, he ripped the chain from her wrist.

Rosalie cupped his cheek. Her thumb brushed over his lip. In spite of everything, she smiled at him. Warmth curled around his heart, along with peace Bucky hadn’t felt in years. Steve gasped too. She had that impact on both of them. She always had. “It’s going to be okay,” she said. “I trust you, Bucky.” 

She extended her other hand to Steve. He wrapped both hands around her tiny one, like he was afraid she might break. Steve did the same thing with Bucky when he first woke from his captivity. “And I was going to come see you,” Rosalie told him. “Peggy told me you were back. She knew I couldn’t stay away.” 

“If I knew you were alive, I would have gone to you first.” Steve smiled at her. “We both would.” 

Bucky made short work of the rest of her chains. Resting his hand against the small of her back, careful to avoid those massive wings, he helped her to standing. 

“I’ll explain later,” she said. “We have to go.” Rosalie took two steps and swayed. Steve caught her before she hit the ground. “They injected me with something,” she said, wobbling. “I think it’s a tranquilizer. I’m hoping my system burns through it.” 

Bucky snarled under his breath. HYDRA shouldn’t be experimenting on anyone. It was worse when it was their Rosalie. “We’re gonna get to the bottom of this,” he promised her. He grabbed his gun and checked that the safety was still off. 

Shifting his weight, Steve scooped Rosalie up into a bridal carry. With the shield strapped to his back, Rosalie looked tiny and frail in his arms. She didn’t hesitate, curling up into his chest, head on his shoulder. Rosalie brushed a hand over Bucky’s good arm. Goosebumps ran up his spine. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I didn’t think anyone was going to come for me.” 

“Don’t think about that now,” Steve said. “We have to get out of here.” 

“Not without my dad.” 

The two men exchanged glances. “Do you know where he is?” Bucky asked, afraid of the answer. 

“No,” Rosalie whispered. Her eyes drifted closed, only to snap them open again. “Malcolm said he had him. Maybe he was lying to me. But if Dad’s here…” 

“We’ll see what we can do.” Bucky said. If Rosalie said Sterling was still alive, then Bucky believed her. They were supersoldiers, and Steve could leverage his connections at SHIELD. It was the least they could do for an old friend. He’d figure out the logistics of how Sterling and Rosalie were still alive later. 

Bringing his gun up again, Bucky poked his head out the door. The sirens still wailed. “Let’s go.” 

It was the three of them, together again. Just like the first time they’d met, nearly a century earlier.

* * *

**_Brooklyn, 1926_ **

“Let him go!” 

Bucky sprinted down the alleyway. Steve was sprawled on the ground, arms blocking his face from Mikey’s blows. Jackie kneeled on Steve’s chest, holding him down. 

“What’s it to you, Barnes?” Jackie wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “You lookin’ for a fight too?” 

“And little Stevie’s got it comin’,” Mikey added, pulling back to punch Steve again. “We told him to stay out of it.” 

Bucky’s fist slammed into Mikey’s jaw instead. “That’s for hurting my friend.” 

Mikey tumbled further into the alley. Steve planted his legs in Jackie’s stomach and pushed him away. Bucky hooked an arm underneath Steve’s scrawny body and yanked him away. “What the hell did you do this time?” Bucky muttered. 

“They were tryin’ to steal from the new grocers,” Steve said. He sucked down air and wheezed. “Couldn’t let them do it.” 

“So you’re gonna let them beat you to a pulp?” Bucky loved Steve, he did. But his sense of honor triumphed over his common sense. “Now we both gotta fight ‘em.” 

The two bullies helped each other up. Mikey brought his fists into a ready position. Jackie cracked his knuckles. “Guess now we got two kids who need to be taught a lesson,” Jackie chuckled. 

“Hey!” 

A new voice rang through the alley. All four of them turned to see who it was. A girl stood at the end, hands on her hips, blocking the street. Sunlight streamed behind her, lighting up her dark hair like a halo. She scowled at the boys ready to tear each others’ throats out. 

Mikey grinned at her. “You want a piece of this, little lady? Why don’t you run home to your mommy?” 

“My mommy is dead,” she said, without missing a beat. “And my daddy owns Archer’s. Where you” - she stabbed a finger at Mikey - “were stealing food.” 

“What’s it to you?” Jackie scoffed. 

“Are you stealing because you’re hungry, or are you stealing because you’re bored?” 

Meanwhile, Bucky got Steve to standing. Aside from a black eye and a split lip, he looked okay. “Are you hurt?” he whispered in Steve’s ear. 

Steve shook his head. “I’m fine.” 

The bullies’ attention was focused on the mystery girl. “What’s the difference?” Mikey said. “It’s not like you care.” 

“If you don’t have anything to eat, you could have asked,” she said. “You can talk to my daddy and he’ll see what he can do to help.” 

“Help us?” Mikey laughed. “Kid, no one here wants to help us.” 

“When you act like that?” She pointed to Steve and Bucky. “Beating up a kid who’s half your size just because you can? Seems to me you could use a bit of tough love yourself.” 

Jackie took two steps towards her. “Who are you?” 

She lifted her chin. “I’m Rosalie Archer, and you’re going to go home and leave those two alone.” 

“He started it,” Jackie said, jerking his thumb towards Steve. 

“Because you tried to steal from us,” Rosalie shot back. “I’ll talk to them about defending our honor. You worry about taking care of yourself.” 

Mikey punched one hand into the other. “Maybe we should take out our frustrations on you instead.” 

Both Steve and Bucky growled. “Try it and find out what happens,” Steve spat at him. Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. 

“I don’t think you’d really hit a girl.” Rosalie rolled her eyes. “Go home. If you find you need something, talk to my dad.” 

“Your dad won’t care.” Jackie shook his head. 

“You don’t know him,” Rosalie said. “Now. Are you leaving or what?” 

She took one step into the alleyway, then another. Flicking a hand, she waved Mikey and Jackie off like she was brushing dirt off her dress. 

Both boys blinked at her and took off down the street. Mikey bumped into her as he ran past. “Ow!” Rosalie rubbed at her shoulder, scrunching her face. “Stubborn boys. At least they’re gone now.” She glanced at Bucky and Steve. “Are you two okay?” 

“Are you crazy?” Steve straightened to his full height. He was still a few inches shorter than Rosalie. “They could have hurt you. You shouldn’t have come down here by yourself.” 

Rosalie shrugged. “I got them to leave, didn’t I?” She stopped before them, rocking back on her heels. “Are you hurt? You’re bleeding.” She pointed to Steve’s mouth. 

“I’m fine.” Steve doubled over, wincing. Bucky caught him by the waist. “Shove off, Buck.” 

“You’re lying.” Bucky sighed. “Look, thanks for the help. But they’re gonna come back and they’re gonna bring friends.” 

“Or,” she held up a finger, “they’ll go talk to my dad. He’ll find out what’s going on, and maybe they can stop being bullies and work on being better people.” 

“I wish I was that optimistic,” Bucky muttered. “Anyways. I’m Bucky. This idiot here is Steve.” 

“Bucky is your real name?” Rosalie asked. She pulled a handkerchief from her breast pocket and offered it to Steve. “For your lip,” she said, gesturing to her own mouth. 

Steve grumbled something under his breath, but took the handkerchief. “Thanks,” he said, pressing it to his face.

“It’s short for Buchanan,” Bucky said. 

“Your first name is Buchanan?” Rosalie asked.

“Middle name.” Bucky ran a hand over his hair. “It’s James.” 

“I think I like Bucky better.” Rosalie came around Steve’s other side, looping his arm over her shoulder. Steve jumped, but she patted his hand, like they’d always been friends. “Come on. We’ll go to Archer’s.” 

Steve stumbled. Both Rosalie and Bucky held him up. “We were just there,” he protested. 

“And we’re going back. Because my dad should look at that lip and maybe you need a break.” She looked down at him, “You don’t sound so good.” 

Coughing, Steve shook his head. “I’m fine.” 

Rosalie glanced at Bucky. Bucky shrugged. Steve’s health wasn’t a stranger’s concern. “At least let me get you a cold drink and something to eat,” she insisted. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Bucky said. “We got this.” 

“But I want to.” Rosalie led them out of the alley. Just like Steve, Bucky could tell she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “The shop’s not far, as you know. And, well, it’s the right thing to do.” 

“So is standing up to bullies,” Steve shot back. 

“Not if it gets you hurt,” Rosalie said. 

“And if I’m not there to help you out,” Bucky added. 

“I could have taken them,” Steve protested. He leaned into Bucky, drawing another ragged breath. 

Bucky shifted his weight, supporting Steve without saying a word. “Hopefully this won’t become a regular thing,” Bucky said, shaking his head. “You rescuing us.” 

She grinned. “I promise I don’t mind,” she said, and Bucky believed her. “Let’s get you two inside.” 

From that moment on, the three of them were inseparable. Bucky always stood up for Steve when Steve fought for what was right; Rosalie always supported them in the aftermath. It wasn’t until decades later, when his memories returned, that Bucky realized how much those days meant to him.

They’d been innocent kids once. The world was bigger than Archer’s Grocery and Brooklyn now. They weren’t children anymore.

But with Steve on one side and Rosalie on the other, Bucky knew they’d be okay. They were back together again. Just like they should be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, everyone! I hope you have a great holiday season and a happy new year! ♥ Stay safe!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With little time for explanations, the trio flee the facility - and Malcolm takes matters into his own hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Violence, animal death, minor character death

The world still felt fuzzy. Rosalie knew it was a result of whatever drug Auerbach gave her, but it made everything seem like she was dreaming. 

Captain America, her Stevie, came to rescue her, alongside his best friend, James Buchanan Barnes. Two people she had long thought dead showed up when she needed them the most. 

Her surroundings reminded her of the reality of their situation. Sirens echoed throughout the halls, matching the pounding in her head. Her cuffs hung from her wrists, heavy even without the chains attached. She was exhausted, filthy, and sore, and she wanted to go home.

But underneath all of that, something clicked inside Rosalie’s soul. Her chosen were with her. Her chosen were  _ alive.  _ If this was a dream, she didn’t want to wake up. 

Bucky led the way, weapon always at the ready. He was bigger than she remembered, and his hair was longer too. His left hand and forearm looked like it was made of metal. But Rosalie would recognize either of them, no matter where they were, no matter what they looked like. Her soul knew theirs. 

Tears streaked down her face, but she didn’t have the energy to wipe them away. It was hard enough to keep her eyes open as Steve carried her away from her cell. 

“Do you know another way out, Rose?” Steve asked. He’d never been able to lift her before. Now he held onto her as if she didn’t weigh a thing. “We didn’t walk in the front door.” 

She shook her head. “I was attacked in a warehouse,” she said. “And I woke up in that hellhole of a cell.” 

“We can backtrack,” Bucky said. He leaned his head around the corner, looking down the next hallway. “But they’ll be expecting it.” 

“There has to be another way.” Steve nodded to Bucky. “We clear?” 

Bucky held up one hand. Then he flicked his fingers towards the opposite direction. “Not willing to risk it.” He met Steve’s eyes. “They’re coming for us.” 

Steve shifted his grip on her, holding Rosalie up with one arm. He reached behind him for his shield, hooking it into place. She’d seen pictures of the shield before, she didn’t realize how big it was. If not for her wings, she could have hidden behind it. 

“Of course they are,” Rosalie murmured. “They aren’t just going to let you take me.” 

“Because you’re an angel?” Bucky guessed. He took off down the hallway. Steve followed him. Rosalie watched their back, expecting more guards at every turn. 

“And a demon is running this place,” Rosalie added. If Malcolm knew her chosen were here, he wouldn’t hesitate to rip them to shreds. Rosalie would die before she let that happen.

“HYDRA is full of demons,” Bucky said, not meeting her eyes. 

Her stomach churned. “So that’s who Auerbach works for.” she murmured. She remembered reports about HYDRA from World War II. They fought alongside the Nazis, and they wanted to take over the world. It matched Auerbach’s attitude. 

“Auerbach?” Steve asked. 

“The scientist who experimented on me,” she said. Bile rose in the back of her throat. “He wants to use angelic magic to power their technology.” 

Bucky snarled. “We won’t let him.” 

Tears filled her eyes again. “I tried - I tried to stop it.” Together, Malcolm and Auerbach coerced her into using her powers. If she’d been stronger, maybe she could have stopped it. Maybe she could have gotten away.

“Hey.” Steve ducked into an alcove. Bucky stepped into them both, tilting her head up when she went to bury it into Steve’s shoulder. “No one blames you,” Steve reminded her. “The Rosalie I know would never help HYDRA willingly. They held you, they hurt you. They’re using you, doll.” 

“It’s what HYDRA does,” Bucky said. He stared at his metal hand, silver fingers clenching into a fist. “It’s hard not to blame yourself. But it ain’t your fault.” 

“James.” Rosalie rested a shaking hand against his face. Blue eyes met hers, so full of darkness and pain.  _ What did they do to you?  _ She wanted to ask, but the words died in her throat. “Tell me later, okay?” 

He rested his cheek against her palm, his breaths unsteady. “Yeah. Later.” 

“HYDRA’s not our only problem.” She didn’t let go of Bucky or Steve. She needed that tether to the here and now. “There is an actual demon here. His name is Malcolm Nash.” 

“Malcolm,” Steve repeated. “That name was in Peggy’s files.” 

She nodded. “I didn’t know what he was when I first got Dad’s notes. I don’t know how Dad knew him, but he’s working with HYDRA.” 

“I’m not surprised,” Bucky muttered. 

“What does that mean for us?” Steve asked. 

“Can’t you feel it?” She pressed a hand against her heart. The wards here were thinner than inside her cell, but it still hurt to breathe. “He’s laced this place with magic.” 

“Magic,” Steve repeated. “Like out of fairytales?” 

“Like the kind angels and demons can wield,” she said. The boys needed to understand what they were up against. “Don’t you feel unsettled here? Hairs raised on the back of your neck, or like someone’s watching over your shoulder?” 

As if on cue, Bucky rolled his shoulders. “Yeah. That’s normal when you bust into a secret underground lab.” 

Rosalie didn’t know they were underground. She filed that information away for later. “That’s Malcolm’s magic you feel. While we’re inside his wards, I can’t access any of my magic.” Her wings fluttered behind her. “And I can’t put my wings away either.” 

Steve’s eyes followed her wings. “We can feel… magic?” 

“Because,” she cupped Steve’s cheek too, mirroring her hold on Bucky, “I blessed you both before you left. You still carry traces of my magic within your soul.” They were her chosen. The tether between the three of them meant they should feel dark magic, too. 

“The white eyes,” Bucky whispered. “On the roof in Brooklyn. You said a prayer and your eyes went white.” 

“Yes.” 

“I noticed the same thing,” Steve added, “only we were in your dad’s store.” 

“I wanted to keep you safe.” Rosalie shuddered. “I couldn’t go with you to Europe and I had to do something. But it’s done now.” 

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Bucky stepped back and fired off four rounds. Rosalie jumped, clinging to Steve. “Chat later,” Bucky said. “We have to go.” 

They had to escape from this hellhole. Questions and explanations would wait until later. Rosalie nodded, adjusting her arms around Steve. 

“Hang onto me, doll,” Steve said, his cheek pressed against her hair. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you.” 

“I know,” she whispered. “I trust you.” 

This was how she’d wanted to be held, that afternoon in the grocery store, when Steve came to say goodbye. This was how Bucky had held her that night on the rooftop, like it was all coming full circle. 

It didn’t matter if she was tired, sore, or hurt. Her chosen were with her. Everything else paled in comparison. 

Now all they had to do was get out of here.

* * *

  
Malcolm smashed his fist through the monitor. Sparks flew. Broken glass cut into his skin. Blood trickled through his fingers. It only fueled the rage building up inside him. 

“Stay here, you said,” he hissed. “Let my men take care of it, you said. What in the  _ fuck  _ are those idiots doing,  _ Connor?”  _

Auerbach stared at the broken equipment. “A problem I will soon remedy.” 

“Captain fuckin’ America just stole our angel, and that’s all you have to say?” 

He turned that steely gaze on Malcolm. “Rogers has the Winter Soldier with him.” 

Malcolm’s tail flicked back and forth. Each time, it danced closer to Auerbach’s face. “Who the fuck is the Winter Soldier?” 

“He is the former Fist of HYDRA,” Auerbach said. “Our best and deadliest weapon. He broke our control a year ago and we lost track of him.” 

“Lost track?” Malcolm laughed, deep in his throat. “You’re just a bunch of incompetent fucks. What were you going to do with the angels?” His eyes darkened. Red seeped into his pupils. “Just how do you think you were going to control  _ me _ ?” 

Auerbach reached inside his jacket. Malcolm knew about the gun there now. “By appealing to your humanity.” 

Under other circumstances, Malcom might have humored him. “You assume I had any humanity to begin with,” he snarled. “I am a demon. I am above you, Connor.” Demonic energy formed in his hand, crackling with red lightning. “Your locks can’t stop me.” 

“Yet, all is not lost.” Auerbach gestured to the broken monitor. “Under pressure, she will be forced to use her abilities. We can still collect valuable data.” 

Malcolm flung the energy ball at the locked door. The metal warped and melted, smoldering at the edges. The gaping hole was just large enough for him to fit through. “I don’t give a shit about your experiments, Connor. The only good angel is a dead one.” 

“Perhaps.” Auerbach’s gun fell neatly into his palm. “I did promise you could kill her.” 

“I’m going to kill her now.” 

He stormed towards the door, but Auerbach yanked him back. Malcolm’s tail slashed his left cheekbone. Venom dripped from the razor-thin cut. 

Auerbach raised his chin. “Recapture her. We need her alive.” He paused, “But do us a favor and take care of the good Captain and our former comrade. HYDRA will pay handsomely for their removal.” 

“I don’t care about your fucking money.” Now all that mattered was having Rosalie Archer’s blood on his hands. She would be weak from his wards, but that didn’t mean Malcolm would enjoy her death any less. 

“You do not want to make an enemy out of us.” Auerbach touched his cheek. Blood stained his fingertips. He stared at it like it belonged to someone else. “HYDRA never forgets.” 

“I’ve had enemies before,” Malcolm said. He jumped through the hole he’d made in the wall. “You know what’s coming, Connor. Better be prepared.” 

Tearing down the hallway, Malcolm didn’t wait for Auerbach’s response. Angelic blood would be spilled this day. 

And Rosalie Archer would join her mother in death. 

* * *

  
**_Outside Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 1925_ **

Malcolm first found the angels weeks ago. He watched from afar as they took care of their little community, helping the sick, feeding the hungry. Malcolm didn’t hold such high ideals. 

He’d killed angels before. Hunted them down like frightened rabbits until they had nowhere else to hide. Judith and John Sterling Archer would die like all the others. 

An opportunity always presented itself. Malcolm stalked them, from the textile mill where they worked, to the townhouse they shared with their little angelic daughter. 

She would die last. With her parents’ blood on his hands, he would end the brat’s life before it had really begun. 

Storm clouds gathered over the empty Philadelphia streets. No one should be out this time of night, but the Archers were. Malcolm toyed with his dagger, the metal tainted with his demonic magic. He ran his tongue over his fangs. 

He would taste blood tonight, if it was the last thing he did. 

Sterling Archer kept glancing over his shoulder. Two dogs trotted beside the couple, a golden retriever and a black lab. Malcolm kept to the shadows. He would know when the moment was right. 

He crept behind the Archers, flicking his dagger back and forth at the same pace as his tail. Climbing the nearest fire escape, he jumped from rooftop to rooftop as he watched them. Thunder boomed from above. 

Judith lagged a step behind Sterling. The retriever nudged her forward. “Not now, Avery,” she murmured. 

Malcolm struck. Shifting his grip on the dagger, he leapt off the building. He drove the cursed blade into Judith’s shoulder, twisting as he went. 

“Judith!” Sterling’s magic slammed into him. Malcolm flew back into the brick building behind him, curling his fist around the dagger so he didn’t lose it. “Are you okay?” 

Blood soaked through the back of her jacket. Dark magic spread through the wound. “Demon,” Judith whispered, curling into herself. 

“Damn right,” Malcolm snarled, climbing back to his feet. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Hiding right underneath your nose.” 

Holding his wife up with one arm, Sterling summoned an orb of white magic. The dogs growled, crouching by his feet. “We have no quarrel with you,” Sterling said. 

“What quarrel does an ant have with a boot?” Malcolm licked Judith’s blood off his dagger. “You’re angels. That’s enough.” 

White magic surrounded both angels. Judith gasped, collapsing against her husband, even while she palmed an orb of her own. “We don’t have to do this,” Sterling said. 

“Yes, we do.” Malcolm launched his own magic back at the barrier. Red met white in a shower of sparks. 

The dogs attacked first. The big black one leaped onto Malcolm’s back. Meanwhile, the golden retriever bit at his legs, teeth tearing into muscle. Flipping the dagger in his hands, Malcolm slashed at whatever fur he could hit first. The dagger sank into the retriever’s skull. 

Judith screamed. Blood bubbled from her mouth. The dog’s jaws loosened from his leg. 

“Let me guess,” Malcolm ground out, “this one is bound to you, isn’t it, sweetheart?” Another twist of his hand saw the blade buried in the dog’s heart. 

Her legs wouldn’t hold her. Sterling dropped to the ground, cradling his wife. “Judith, love, stay with me,” he begged. His magic shifted, the orbs called to his hand in an attempt to heal her. 

It was the opportunity Malcolm needed. He shrugged off the black lab, tossing it aside like a stuffed toy. The retriever dropped dead at his feet. Yanking the dagger back, he threw it at the couple. Judith turned, orb in her palm, as if to block. 

The blade lodged firmly into Judith’s back. 

She clutched at her husband. “Sterling,” she whispered.

“No.” Sterling shook his head. “Don’t go.” 

“Rosalie,” Judith babbled, “tell Rosalie…” 

She went limp in Sterling’s arms. Tears streaked down his face as he reached behind her to pull the dagger from her back. Both the metal and his hand smoked, but Sterling didn’t notice. Dark eyes turned to Malcolm. “You’ll pay for that,” he muttered, voice breaking halfway through. 

“Don’t worry, you’re gonna join her soon.” Malcolm drew a breath, feeding off the kill and the angelic power in the air. He pulled another dagger from his belt. “Next time I won’t be so quick about it.” 

“Hey? What’s going on out there?” 

A door on the other end of the street slammed. Both Sterling and Malcolm glanced at the sound. The sky opened up with a crack of thunder. Rain trickled, then began to downpour. 

The black lab rushed him. Jaws latched onto Malcolm’s side. His grip slipped from the dagger. “I’ll kill you too, you fucking beast!” Malcolm snarled, but the dog didn’t let go. 

Sterling kissed his wife’s forehead. With a wave of his hand, Judith’s body dissipated into a shimmering cloud of glittering light. 

“Lucas!” he called, getting to unsteady feet. 

_ “Go!”  _ Another voice said from the ether.  _ “Get to Rosalie! I’ll follow you!”  _

Rolling across the street, Malcolm wrenched the dog away from him. The dog snapped his teeth around his wrist instead. Malcolm howled. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Sterling took off down the street. Lights came on in the nearby townhouses. The retriever disappeared in a sparkle of angelic magic, as if she’d never been there in the first place. 

Malcolm fisted the lab by the scruff of the neck and tossed him. The dog hit the nearby building. “What the hell?” someone else asked, voice floating from an open window. 

If he stayed here, he would be questioned. Humans were too stupid to understand they were only pawns in a battle bigger than themselves. At best, they were an inconvenience. At worst, they would allow the angel to get away. 

He palmed his dagger, prepared to finish off the dog, when the door beside him opened. A man stood in the doorway, wiping sleep from his eyes. “Everyone okay out here?” he asked groggily. 

“Nothing you need to worry about.” The lie burned as he spoke, throbbing along with his wounds. Others appeared on their steps. If Malcolm killed this man, he’d have to kill all of them. Normally he wouldn’t mind, but he was running out of time. 

“Are you sure?” The man glanced down the street, careful not to get wet. “Sounded like there was fighting.” 

“Mind your own business if you know what’s good for you.” 

A streak of black tore past him in the rain. Malcolm took off after the dog, running as fast as he could with a wounded leg. 

Sterling went to grab the brat, he just knew it. Malcolm would just have to kill the kid first then. 

Either way, the Archer family died tonight. 

* * *

  
**_The Facility - Present Day_ **

Connor Auerbach frowned at the hole Nash created in his office. The doors would have unlocked in a matter of minutes, and they would have left then. Blasting his way out was barbaric and childish. Auerbach expected such violence from a demon. 

He touched his cheek, fingertips coated in blood mixed with a slick, greenish pus. Malcolm tried to poison him with demonic venom. 

Auerbach prepared for all possible outcomes. He assumed Malcolm would turn on him eventually. Ideally, they would have had another angel subject or two before this happened, but there were other ways to complete their experiments. 

Flailing a hand, he grabbed a tissue and pressed it against his face. Auerbach drew a ragged breath past the pressure building in his chest. 

The venom entered his bloodstream. He didn’t have much time. 

He opened a drawer beneath the console. Pressing on the lower left corner, another secret compartment popped up. Sitting neatly inside a sterile holder was a syringe of anti-venom. 

Auerbach shrugged out of one arm of his suit jacket. Dropping the handkerchief, he grabbed the syringe. He shot himself in the upper arm, right through his dress shirt. 

He began formulating an anti-venom long before he considered making a business deal with Malcolm Nash. Granted, Auerbach assumed he’d use it on one of his associates instead of himself. All labs had a stash of anti-venom for moments like this. 

Malcolm underestimated HYDRA from the start. 

He took a seat and focused on his breathing. His head throbbed as dueling medicine fought within his body. Auerbach tested the anti-venom on over a hundred different subjects. The recipe was perfect. 

Blinking, Auerbach’s thoughts raced, but he knew what he had to do. Captain America and the Winter Soldier were in the building. Malcolm had gone rogue. It was time to cut their losses and regroup. 

He dialed a number he knew by heart, and never saved within any device he used. “This is Auerbach,” he said. “The facility has been compromised. Avengers are in the building and Nash was broken the rules of our deal.” 

“Heard,” the voice returned. “Pickup will arrive within the next hour.” 

“Heard,” Auerbach said, and hung up. HYDRA would not abandon him. He would deal with the fallout from his superiors later. Their experiments weren’t a failure. The data he’d gathered would lead them to success, Auerbach was certain of it. 

Then he tapped his earpiece to contact his men. “Attention all units.” Auerbach paused as his chest tightened. “Malcolm Nash is no longer working with HYDRA. He is armed and dangerous. Terminate on sight.” 

Security footage played out in front of him. Captain America retrieved one angel, but not the second. “Secure our specimens and meet topside at 1800. Anyone not at the extraction point will be left behind. This is a direct order. Auerbach out.” 

Closing his eyes, he collapsed back against the chair. All that mattered now was ensuring their research remained intact. They could build another facility. His experiments would continue. 

And Malcolm Nash would regret making an enemy of HYDRA.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony, Natasha, and Sam arrive at the warehouse, and Rosalie tells the boys of her purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Canon-typical violence

On the flight, Tony dug up what information he could regarding Steve and Bucky’s coordinates. Aerial photos showed an abandoned warehouse that sat empty since the 1960s. The police flagged it as an active partying spot and often busted kids for selling weed on the premises. Kids shouldn’t be selling drugs, nor should they be arrested for having a dime bag of pot. It also didn’t warrant the Avengers’ attention.

Nothing said that this was anything unusual. Tony expected to find Steve and Bucky waiting out front, Steve with his arms crossed and giving them his best American stare. 

Tony fiddled with his watch. “Are we almost there?” 

“Mmmhmm,” Natasha murmured from the pilot’s seat. “Coming up on the coordinates now.” 

Tony looked out the front window of the quinjet. The warehouse looked nothing like it did online. At least two dozen men patrolled the building. Some set up a perimeter around the building. Others searched Steve’s car, a baby blue Ford Mustang convertible. Hopefully Steve didn’t leave his wallet inside. 

Tapping a few buttons, Tony brought up a closer image of the ground below. These weren’t just men - they were soldiers. And they all wore Kevlar, guns, and knives. 

“What the hell?” Sam Wilson asked, leaning over Tony’s shoulder. “I thought you said the guys were just checking on something.” 

“Leave to Steve to find a hidden army on his day off.” Tony knew it. When they found Steve and Bucky, he was going to revel in saying so. 

He hit his wrist. The nanotech in his watch expanded, sliding up his arm, around his torso, speeding down his legs, and curling over his heart. His helmet snapped into place last. “Looks like we’re going to work, kids,” he said. 

“They could be friendly,” Sam pointed out. 

“Do you dress up in full military gear if you’re expecting your neighbors to show up with a pie?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Just saying.” Sam held a hand up. “Maybe one of us would rather solve things without violence.” 

“Perhaps,” Natasha said. “We’re never that lucky.” 

Tony pointed to a clearing beside the warehouse. “Put the quinjet down over there. Let’s say hello to our new friends.” 

Gunfire erupted before they could even extend the boarding ramp. “What did I tell you,” Tony said, rolling his shoulders. “Does that seem like a friendly greeting to you?” 

Sam sighed. “So much for being optimistic.” Metal wings sprouted from his shoulders. “I’ll go high and give you two coverage.” 

“Appreciate it.” Tony glanced at Natasha. She slid out of the pilot’s seat, Widow’s Bites on her wrists and a pistol in each hand. “After you, Superspy.” 

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Save it for later, Stark. We’re busy.” 

Tony projected a nano shield to protect himself, and walked into the fray. Natasha trained her weapons on the enemy agents. Sam flew into the sky.

“Hey!” Tony called. “I just want it on the record that you all shot first. You want to tell me who’s in charge here?” 

“Not you!”

Tony snorted. “That’s funny. I’m always in charge.” Gunfire ricocheted off his shield. “If you don’t stop shooting, we’ll have to fight back,” Tony warned. 

“Death to the Avengers!” another shouted. 

“That’s not how you build character relations at all,” Tony chided. “Nat, you’re up.” 

She disappeared in a blur of black leather and bright red hair. “On it.” 

Activating the repulsers in his boots, Tony joined Sam above the crowd. “Listen, we’re just looking for our friends. Have you seen them?” He ducked and weaved as they tried to shoot him down. “I’m going to take that as a no.” 

“Stark.” Natasha leapt onto one soldier’s back. She twisted his gun out of his hands. Tightening her legs around the man’s shoulders, she shot a trio of soldiers in rapid succession. “These guys are HYDRA.” 

HYDRA. Of course. If anyone could manage to find an evil organization while helping a friend, it was Steve and Bucky. Tony wondered if Peggy knew what sort of trouble her friend was in. 

“Well, shit.” Tony shrugged. “We need to get inside that warehouse.” 

“Protect the entrance!” One soldier shouted, jumping into the warehouse through one of the broken windows. 

“So that’s the way you guys want to play it?” He tilted his head. “FRIDAY, analyze the building and tell me what we’re looking at.” 

He flew through the sky, dodging fire with every barrel roll. As Sam started taking fire, Tony blasted a handful of soldiers back. 

“There is a tunnel beneath the warehouse, boss,” FRIDAY returned. “Tunnel runs underground for more than a mile to another facility.” 

“Is there a secondary entrance?” Tony did a loop-de-loop around the side of the warehouse. 

“Working on that now.” 

“Work faster, we’re running out of time.” Three Avengers could handle a bunch of HYDRA men, sure. Natasha took out men left and right. Sam snatched weapons out of soldiers’ hands and sent them flying across the empty parking lot. 

HYDRA wouldn’t protect the building without a reason. A secret underground lair didn’t surprise Tony at all. Who knew what resources HYDRA had waiting down below? 

And just where were Steve and Bucky?

“FRIDAY, send a message to Agent Carter,” Tony instructed. “Tell her that I was right and she was wrong. Oh, and I’m gonna want to speak to her aunt too.” 

“Already done, boss.” 

Sharon would send the SHIELD calvary. Steve and Bucky were somewhere in this mess. Tony wasn’t leaving without them. “Let’s kick some HYDRA ass.” 

* * *

  
The facility was a giant maze. Backtracking to the underground tunnel wasn’t an option, not with the soldiers in their way. 

Steve’s first priority was Rosalie and her safety. Were it just him and Bucky, they would have fought their way through without a second thought. Rosalie didn’t have that option. 

He was still processing the idea that she was alive, much less the fact that she was an angel. Once they were out of here, the three of them would have a long talk about the last seventy years. They had to survive the next few hours first. 

They pressed forward, Rosalie in Steve’s arms, Bucky leading the way. Rosalie tucked her face into Steve’s neck. “I can walk,” she insisted, but her voice was weak. 

“And I can carry you,” Steve shot back. “We’re almost out.” 

He met Bucky’s eyes over Rosalie’s head. Bucky gave him a sharp nod. They were getting out of here, no matter what. Rosalie didn’t need to worry about the specifics. 

Rosalie inhaled sharply, then sagged in his arms. Her hands slipped from his shoulders. 

“Rose?” She didn’t answer him. Steve tried again. “Rosalie? Are you still with us?” 

Bucky tightened his jaw. His blue eyes betrayed his worry. “Over here,” he said, gesturing to a set of double glass doors. He kicked them open and marched in. 

Even HYDRA provided its members with a proper cafeteria. A buffet lined the back wall, along with several vending machines for drinks and snacks. Long tables lined the room, chairs scattered as if the occupants left in a hurry. Trays of uneaten food waited for them to return. 

Ignoring all of it, Bucky swept one of the tables clean with his metal arm. “I’ll check the rest of the room,” he said. “You take care of her.” 

“I will.” He settled her on the cafeteria table. Stripping out of his jacket, Steve propped it behind Rosalie’s head so she didn’t lay on her wings. 

He brushed her hair out of her face and checked her pulse. “Rosalie,” he murmured. “Stay with us. We’re almost out.” 

Rosalie sighed, dragging her eyes open. Her pupils were bright white instead of her usual hazel. “I know,” she whispered. “We’re outside the wards.” 

“Wards?” Steve blinked. 

She arched her back. The wings shrank, the feathers folding in on themselves until they disappeared into her back. Aside from two jagged scars, he’d never know her wings existed in the first place. “Malcolm’s wards,” she explained. “It’s the magic he used to keep me in that cell.” 

As if the chains hadn’t been enough, she’d been held down by magic, too. “How are you feeling?” 

She winced. “Sore, exhausted, hungry. Do you think they left anything decent to eat in here?” 

“I’m not sure I’d trust it.” Steve took her hand, careful of her wounds. The sight of her chained to the wall burned into his memory. It reminded him of when he rescued Bucky and the wild fear in Bucky’s eyes. At least Steve could keep the two most important people to him safe now. 

Rosalie curled her fingers around his. “Where is Bucky?” she whispered. 

“Bucky is here,” Bucky said, sitting on the opposite side of the cafeteria table. “The coast is clear, but we shouldn’t stay here long.” 

“I know.” Groaning, Rosalie pushed herself up to sitting. Steve never let go of her hand. Her matted hair barely covered the scars on her back. “But there’s something I need to do.” 

“No, you don’t,” Steve said. “We got this, Buck and I.” 

She chuckled. In that moment they were back in Archer’s Grocery, like no time had passed at all, and not in HYDRA’s cafeteria running for their lives. “I know you do,” Rosalie said, “but this is important. I might not have the energy for it, but I have to try.” 

“Doll.” Bucky took her other hand. “You save your energy for getting out of here.” 

She turned those ghost-white eyes to Bucky. “No.” Rosalie would not be argued with, and Steve didn’t want to try. “I should have done this before you shipped off to war.” 

“We don’t understand,” Steve said. “Your eyes - they’re white again.”

“Let me explain.” Her eyes flickered between white and hazel. “You are my chosen.” 

“Chosen?” Bucky repeated. 

“The two souls I was placed on this earth to protect.” She bit her bottom lip. “All angels have a purpose. I knew the moment I met you that I was supposed to be by your side forever. And then the war happened, Bucky left, Steve became Captain America, and everything spiraled out of control.” She sighed. “I didn’t want it to be like this. I know what I have to do.” 

Rosalie squeezed each of their hands. “Do you trust me?” 

Though he’d been born and raised Catholic, Steve didn’t have much faith in a higher power anymore. But he couldn’t deny the truth before him now. 

Angels were real. Rosalie’s magic was real. He believed in her. It was enough. 

“Of course,” he murmured. Bucky nodded too. “What do you need from us?” 

“Just your faith in me,” she said, “and to believe that what you’re about to see is real.” 

Rolling her shoulders, Rosalie sat taller, jaw set. She brought their joined hands up to her heart and leaned her forehead against the boys’ knuckles. 

“I give these souls the gift of my protection,” she said, clear and sharp. Her voice echoed through the empty cafeteria. A wind blew past them, though they were underground. Strands of dark hair fluttered around her head. “I make this choice of my own free will. I will guide them, protect them, cherish them, as long as my life is here upon this earth.” 

Silver-white orbs floated around her head like a halo, each one sparkling like a star in a pitch-black sky. 

“James Buchanan Barnes,” she whispered. An orb flew to Bucky. It orbited around him before it dissipated into his chest. Bucky gasped. “I bind myself to you, to your life, to your power. May the light of angels guide you on your way.” 

Her gaze shifted to Steve. She was otherworldly now, powerful. But Steve wasn’t afraid.

Power thrummed within the room. Another orb spun around him. “Steven Grant Rogers,” Rosalie murmured. “I bind myself to you, to your life, to your power. May the light of angels guide you on your way.” 

And the orb slipped into his heart. 

Before the serum, the magic he felt now might have killed him. Something ice-cold flooded his veins, followed by a burning warmth, like lava followed the ice’s path. Peace rushed through him. He was where he was supposed to be, right alongside Bucky and Rosalie. 

Even knowing what dangers they faced, Steve’s soul was at ease. He felt stronger, almost invincible - like he’d been given a gift. 

Steve looked at Bucky. His eyes, too, were the same white as Rosalie’s. She took their hands to her lips, kissing Bucky’s knuckles, then Steve’s. Goosebumps traveled up his arm. 

“My power is theirs. Their power is mine. The bonds forged between us cannot be unbroken. This is my angelic vow.” 

Rosalie bowed her head to their joined hands. Steve pressed his forehead against her temple. Bucky did the same. 

The orbs floated around them, swirling together into a tornado. The magic slammed into Rosalie. White light burst from her, covering the three of them. Rosalie sagged as the light faded, clutching at their hands. 

Steve recovered first, blinking away the light spots. “Hey, it’s okay, we got you,” he said, wrapping his free arm around her waist. 

“I think we shouldn’t let you do magic again until we’re sure you’re better.” Bucky laid hand over Steve’s. 

She chuckled, crinkling her nose at Bucky. “I’m fine,” she insisted, “It’s not every day an angel takes their chosen.” 

“Seems like it’s kind of a big deal,” Steve said. 

“It is.” Rosalie glanced up at the ceiling. “Chances are Malcolm can feel my magic. He’ll use it to track us.” 

“Which means our break is over.” Bucky stood up, readying his gun. “You want me to carry her this time?” 

“No, I’m good.” Steve got up too, stretching. Already some of the tension left his shoulders. 

Rosalie waved them both off. Her legs shook as she swung her feet to the floor. “I can handle myself.” 

“You need time to recover,” Steve said, adjusting his shield on his arm. 

“That spell helped, I promise.” 

At the far end of the cafeteria, a door popped open. Steve jumped over the table and put himself in front of Rosalie. Bucky trained his gun on the door. 

A man limped into the room, clutching his shoulder. His hair flopped into his eyes. Rosalie rested a hand on Bucky’s gun. “He won’t hurt you,” she murmured. 

“Everyone here wants to hurt us, Rose,” Bucky muttered. 

“Maybe,” she said, “but not him.” She took a step forward. This time, she didn’t collapse. “Charlie? Is that you?” 

“You know his name?” Bucky hissed. 

Steve almost offered her the shield. Rosalie brushed her fingers down Steve’s arm as she passed by. 

The man looked up. It was Phillips, the same kid they’d shot down earlier, the one who told them where Rosalie’s cell was. 

Phillips fell to the ground, panting. Rosalie approached slowly, hands hovering at her sides. “Charlie, you’ve been hurt,” she said, voice soft in the stillness of the cafeteria. “Let me see?” 

“You can’t do anything.” Phillips coughed. “Superiors are pulling out. We’re going to die down here.” 

“No, we’re not.” She kneeled beside him. “I can help you.” 

“Why? Your friends are the ones who shot me.” 

Rosalie glanced behind her. Bucky threw a hand up. “He shot at us first,” he said. 

“Never mind that.” Rosalie gathered another ball of white energy into her palm. “I can close up the wound. Then you can get out of here.”

“Why?” Phillips wiped his face with the back of his free hand. Snot and tears streaked across the sleeve of his black uniform. “We did such horrible things to you.”

“HYDRA did,” Rosalie conceded, “but you did not. You were the only one who saw me as a person. Kindness begets kindness, Charlie. I still have hope for you.”

He snorted. “You shouldn’t.”

“Maybe not. But I’m an angel. Being optimistic is in my nature.” The energy swirled in her hand. “We can trade, if you’d like.”

“I don’t-” He flinched as he sat up. “I don’t understand.”

“I’ll heal you, and you tell us how to get out of here.”

Phillips studied her. Bucky’s finger lingered on the trigger. Steve raised a hand to stop him. Phillips was a kid who got in over his head. Steve wasn’t afraid of him.

Rosalie held Phillip’s gaze. White seeped into her pupils again. “Please?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. He pulled a keycard from his jacket and held it out to Rosalie. “The door in the corner,” he whispered, “it’s an elevator to the surface. You need this to use it.”

“Thank you.” She kissed Phillips’ forehead. Her free hand plucked the keycard from his trembling fingers. 

Jealousy twisted in Steve’s stomach. Bucky shifted his weight beside him.

Rosalie offered the orb to Phillips. “Stay still,” she murmured. “It’ll sting a little.”

He nodded. “Do it.”

She blew on the orb, as if blowing out a candle. “Heal what damage has been wrought,” she whispered, “and return Charlie Phillips to rights.”

The orb flew from her hand and into Phillips’ chest. He arched against the wall. Drawing a sharp breath, he collapsed, his posture relaxed. “Thank you,” Phillips whispered, tears streaking down his cheeks.

“You’re welcome.” Rosalie rose to her feet, swaying. Her eyes returned to their normal hazel. “I hope I see you again, Charlie.”

“Wait. There’s something else you should know.”

Bucky jogged over to Rosalie, aiming the gun at Phillips. “Make it quick,” he said, “or I can shoot you again.”

“James.” Rosalie side-eyed him. “That’s not necessary.”

“It’s about Nash,” Phillips said.

Her eyes flashed white. “What about him?”

“He’s not working with HYDRA anymore.” Phillips shook his head. “We’re to kill him on sight.”

“Nash?” Steve asked, joining the other two.

“Malcolm,” Rosalie said. “He’s coming for me, I know. Thank you for the warning.”

Phillips nodded. “Good luck,” he whispered. “You’re going to need it.”

“Save some of it for yourself.” She looked down at Phillips, biting her bottom lip. “Won’t you come with us, Charlie?” 

“Rose,” Bucky warned, a low undertone in his voice. 

“I know,” she said, shaking her head. “I have to try.” 

Now, Phillips reminded Steve of a scared teenager. “No. I’ll only slow you down.” 

“Charlie-” Rosalie protested. 

“Angels,” Phillips continued, “don’t belong in cages. I’m sorry - I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything to help you. At least I can do something now.” 

“Not if it gets you killed,” she said. 

Steve rested a hand on Rosalie’s shoulder. “It’s time.” He wrapped an arm around Rosalie’s waist, guide her to the elevator. Bucky followed close behind, never taking his eyes away from Phillips. The boy never got up from his spot on the floor. 

Rosalie swiped the keycard at the terminal to the right of the door. The lights lit up green, and the elevator whooshed open. Steve pulled Bucky in after them, the three of them pressed into the small space.

“Almost there,” Rosalie murmured, resting her head on Steve’s shoulder. She took Bucky’s other hand, lacing her fingers with his metal ones.

Steve smiled down at her. “Almost there,” he echoed, resting his temple against her hair.

Her magic sang through his veins. They were getting out of here, even if they had to fight all of HYDRA to do it. 

Right now, Steve felt like he could take on the world. 

* * *

  
Malcolm surveyed Rosalie’s cell. Water squished beneath his boots. Her chains still hung from the concrete walls, the cuffs missing. 

His wards held. Captain America and HYDRA Boy weren’t deterred by his magic. Now one of his greatest conquests was fleeing the facility with the help of the Avengers. 

A feral growl slipped from his throat. HYDRA cared more about their experiments than the truth at hand. Even if they managed to harness angelic power, it would always pale in comparison to a demon’s abilities. 

Soon HYDRA would learn that, too. 

But first, Malcolm needed to get Rosalie back. No one else was allowed the pleasure of watching the light fade from her eyes. He’d bleed her out, drown himself in her screams, before he finally let his magic stop her heart. 

“Freeze!” 

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. Three HYDRA officers waited for him in the doorway, each with pistols aimed in his direction. 

“Put your hands up!” The lead officer continued. “Malcolm Nash, you are ordered to stand down and surrender.” 

Malcolm chucked. His tail flicked back and forth, like a cat about to pounce. “My goodness, look at you,” he purred. “Did you think I’d come quietly just because you pointed a gun at me?” He shook a finger at them. 

The soldier didn’t flinch. “Don’t make me kill you, Nash.” 

Black flooded the whites of Malcolm’s eyes. The last of his humanity stripped away. Between the blood red and black eyes, the tail, and the fangs, anyone with an ounce of self-preservation would run. 

Instead the man pulled the trigger. It was the wrong thing to do. 

Fangs bared, Malcolm leapt out of the cell, dodging the bullet. He barreled into the officer’s chest, knocking the gun away. His fangs tore into his neck. 

Blood coated his tongue. Malcolm moaned. Fresh blood was almost better than sex. 

Once the man stopped twitching, Malcolm dropped his corpse to the ground. 

Gunfire greeted him. Malcolm licked his lips and considered it a challenge. 

The others suffered similar fates. He impaled one soldier with his tail, embedding the tip into the wall while he fed upon the other. The soul of a regular human wouldn’t sustain him as long as an angel would, but Malcolm was beyond caring. HYDRA had it coming. 

Corpses piled at his feet. Malcolm wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing the blood through his beard. “Look at the mess we’ve made,” he said, shaking his head. “You could’ve just let me pass.” 

A wave washed over him as he turned to go. Pure angelic energy dispersed through the building like the tide coming in. He gagged on the bile in the back of his throat. 

Rosalie Archer could use her powers.

It wasn’t a tiny spell, either. His wards should have prevented her from any magic at all, much less something this powerful. His eyes rolled back into his head as he listened to the magic falling around him. 

It was a stupid move from a stupid woman who wasn’t old enough to know better. Any demon worth their salt couldn’t let an angel get away after that display of power. 

Malcolm could not rest until Rosalie Archer was dead. 

Rolling red lightning surged around him, starting at his hands and swirling up his torso. The ground rocked beneath his feet. 

“Archer,” he warned, “there’s nowhere you can go where I won’t find you.” 

Directing his energy at the ground, he curled his hands into fists. The walls around him quivered. The ceiling splintered. Dirt fell into his eyes. Malcolm never noticed. 

“Naughty, naughty girl.” He grinned. “You told me just how to find you.” 

He released the lightning, The power blasted him upward. Surrounded by demonic energy, pitiful things like concrete and dirt couldn’t hold him back. 

Even HYDRA couldn’t stop a demon. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers face off against Malcolm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Violence

Tony dodged another blast. Whipping around, he fired two more back at his attackers. If not for the repulsors attached to his boots, HYDRA would have shot him out of the sky a hundred times by now. 

Three Avengers could take on a few HYDRA goons, sure. But for every soldier they took down, six more appeared from their underground lair. They were protecting something. Tony was determined to find out what.

Sam’s luck wasn’t any better. As he ran out of ammo, he flew down and plucked guns from fallen soldiers. “You know,” Sam muttered over the intercom, “I bet this whole thing was Bucky’s idea.”

“You just want to blame Bucky,” Natasha pointed out. She somersaulted over Steve’s Mustang and crouched behind it. “Fighting HYDRA on his day off? No, this is Steve’s fault.”

“Cap’s not allowed to play with bad guys without inviting the rest of us.” Tony touched down in the middle of a pile of old, broken crates. What once might have been a frat party was now a war zone of shattered glass and wood.

“Playing?” Sam snorted. He shot down two snipers on the rooftop. “You call this playing?” 

In spite of the situation, Tony laughed. “Come on, Flyboy, you’re not having fun?” 

“I could be back at the Tower, sipping on a nice cold beer and not getting  _ shot at _ !” 

“Boys.” Natasha’s slow drawl betrayed the concern in her voice. “We have bigger problems.” 

Taking off again, Tony surveyed their makeshift battlefield. Not much was left of the Mustang. The driver’s side was riddled with bullet holes. The soft top lay discarded ten feet away. Enemies swarmed the quinjet too. They weren’t getting out of here without a fight. 

Off in the distance, Tony picked up the low hum of machinery. “FRIDAY, what am I hearing right now?” 

“Helicopter,” FRIDAY said. 

“One of ours?” 

FRIDAY zoomed in on the incoming helicopter. A familiar five-armed logo covered the side. 

“Heads up, the bad guys got reinforcements!” Tony called to the others. 

“Can you get a read on how many?” Natasha asked. An explosion went off behind the Mustang. A familiar head of red hair popped up again several feet away. 

“I don’t know. How many fit in a helicopter?” 

“You’re not helping,” Sam shot back. Gunfire filled the intercom. 

“Correction,” FRIDAY said, “there are now several helicopters.” 

“Shit.” Maybe Tony should have read Sharon’s files before rushing out here. Maybe he should have waited until Steve and Bucky came back. 

And maybe they were their friends’ last hope of getting out of this alive. “Get me into that building,” Tony said, gritting his teeth. 

“The entrance to the tunnel beneath the building begins to your right,” FRIDAY informed him. “I do not recommend that route.” 

“Why?”

“It is crawling with soldiers.” 

“So is up here. I don’t see the difference.” 

FRIDAY paused. Tony could almost hear her algorithms running. “There is an elevator. Office door, back left corner.” 

“Finally, some good news.” Tony turned towards the office - and the door whooshed open. 

Bucky Barnes strode through first, rifle at the ready. Steve Rogers was right behind him, pulling his shield from his back. Neither one looked injured. 

Half a step behind Steve was a woman in her mid-20s, in torn, bloodied jeans and a tank top that may have once been white. Heavy iron cuffs wrapped around both wrists and ankles, and her feet were bare. She brushed dark hair out of her eyes and stumbled, catching herself on Steve’s arm. 

“Long time no see,” Tony said, flipping his helmet open. He grinned at the three of them. “You almost missed the party.” 

Steve snorted. “Trust me. We found them down below, too.” Calculating eyes accessed the battles around them. 

“You two don’t do anything quietly, do you?” Tony tsked under his breath. “You should have called me.” 

“We tried. Signal went down.” Bucky waved the woman over. “Stay here and out of sight.” 

“No,” she said, smiling sweetly at him. “Where you two go, I go.” 

“You’re not going in the middle of that,” Steve said. “This is a war zone.” 

“And I can handle myself.” Her eyes fluttered. Her irises went from hazel green to pure white. 

“Huh.” Tony looked her over again. Aside from the freaky eyes, she looked like anyone else. He tapped the side of his helmet, silently instructing FRIDAY to run a scan on the woman. “Do you want to introduce your new friend?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “No,” he snapped. “Tell me we have a ride.” He glanced over his shoulder and took out three more soldiers. 

Tony jerked a thumb towards the windows. “Nat brought the quinjet. Sam’s here, too.” 

“Good. We need all the help we can get.” Steve raised the shield up, covering both Bucky and the woman. “Raid the place later. We have to get her out of here.” 

“We’re only gonna get one shot at this, Cap.” Tony rose up on his repulsors, flying above the trio. “By the time the fighting’s done, they’ll clear out anything beneath. Do you know what’s down there?” 

“Labs,” Bucky said. “HYDRA experiments.” 

“And dungeons,” Steve added. “You know, the usual.” 

“I’m not surprised.” The whine of helicopters filled Tony’s ears again. “They’re bringing in reinforcements. We’re out of time.” 

“No, they’re retreating,” Steve corrected. “We talked to one of the officers.” 

Bucky stepped around her so the woman was safe between the two supersoldiers. “That kid wasn’t an officer, but he wasn’t lying,” he said. “Send SHIELD down for the rest. We’re done. And she needs help.” 

The woman sighed. “You worry too much.” She slid past Bucky and came up behind Steve. “There. Is that the quinjet?” 

“Sure is.” Tony grinned. He immediately liked anyone who didn’t fawn over Steve’s every word. “Want me to give you a lift?” 

The ground beneath them shook. The woman fell to her knees. Bucky caught her, metal arm around her waist. “What was that?” Tony asked. 

Her eyes flicked to Tony’s. The white of her irises drew him in. He couldn’t look anywhere else. “A demon,” she said. 

“For real?” Tony blinked, and the trance was gone. 

“For real,” she confirmed.

The warehouse floor ruptured in half. Steve yanked the woman out of the way. Bucky threw himself into a pile of crates. Tony surveyed the damage. “Something follow you three from the labs?” he asked, not expecting an answer. 

“Malcolm knows where we are,” the woman said. “How fast can that quinjet go?” 

Tony grinned. “How fast do you want it to go?” 

“Perfect.” She straightened her shoulders, shaking off Steve’s hands. “Lovely to meet you, Mr. Stark. You need to take your quinjet and go!” 

The fissure popped and hissed, growing wider by the second. Tony fired his repulsors at it, but nothing changed.

“Tony, take Rosalie,” Steve said. “That’s an order.” 

“Excuse you, Cap, but no one gives orders to me but me.” 

“You can fly her to the quinjet,” Steve argued. “Buck and I will hold Malcolm here.” 

“Malcolm? Demons have names now?” 

Even Tony knew there wasn’t time to argue over semantics. He’d fought all sorts of enemies before, so demons didn’t scare him. But he hated not knowing what he was up against. 

In the moment, he could ensure their new friend wasn’t hurt. “Miss Rosalie, I assume,” he said, hovering just above her. “Your ride is here.” 

She pursed her lips. “He’s here for me. I have to face him.” 

“We’ll handle the bad guys. After all,” Tony winked before snapping his helmet back into place, “it’s what us Avengers do.” 

She took a step back. “I thank you for your offer, Mr. Stark, but it’s not necessary.” 

Rosalie dropped to one knee and hung her head as if in prayer. Giant wings sprouted from the scars curling along her shoulder blades. Shimmering iridescent white feathers were covered with dingy grey dust. Her wingspan was easily twice that of Sam’s Falcon suit. Flapping her wings, Rosalie faced the two supersoldiers behind her. “What?” she asked. “Did you really think they were just for display?” 

Blinking, Steve recovered first, snapping his jaw closed. “No,” he said. “You don’t have to do this.” 

“And you’re injured,” Bucky added. “Let us fight.” 

“No,” Rosalie shook her head. “When Malcolm gets here, you’re going to need me.” 

“You should get on the quinjet,” Steve argued. 

“Doesn’t matter now.” Tony nodded towards the crater in the floor. “We got more company.” 

Red lightning gathered in the opening, a writhing mass growing larger and larger. Rosalie leapt up in the air, hovering beside Tony. “Shall we?” She raised an eyebrow at him. 

Tony grinned back. “If you think you’re up to it. Avengers!” Sam approached from the other side of the warehouse. Natasha jogged over to join Steve and Bucky. 

“Assemble!” Steve finished. Together, they took off into the fray. 

* * *

  
Steve’s mind raced at a million miles an hour. He sorted through battle strategies, rejecting most of them. HYDRA’s soldiers were retreating. The crater in the warehouse pulsed with red lightning, growing larger by the second. 

And then there was Rosalie to consider. 

She should have gone to the quinjet. Natasha could have flown her out of this mess. But Rosalie refused. 

Instead she flew alongside Tony, never attacking, but always offering support. With a flick of her fingers, Natasha had a bulletproof shield. Another angelic boost saw Tony blasting past a set of guards. 

Every time Rosalie streaked past him, Steve’s heart caught in his throat. She fought even when she was weak, even when she didn’t have to. Somehow he knew she was expending too much energy. 

It was his job, his and Bucky’s, to take care of her now. Starting by dealing with Malcolm the demon. 

“Rosie,” he called, flagging her down. “Give us a crash course on demons.” 

Rosalie touched down beside Steve, wings fluttering behind her. “He’s channeling all his energy to get here. Demons will stop at nothing to get their prey. Especially when they’re pissed off.” 

“Demons?” Sam asked. “Like biblical demons?” 

“I wasn’t aware demons were a thing,” Natasha said, shooting down another soldier. 

Rosalie shuddered. “I wish I were wrong. His tail is poisonous and whatever you do, don’t get caught by the lightning.” 

“Tails?” Tony snorted. “Like a dog?” 

“No.” Two large white orbs formed in her palms. “You’ll see what I mean.” 

“Then why not get him first?” Tony moved towards the crater, but Rosalie held him back. 

“He’ll kill you,” she said. “We can’t lose you.” She glanced around at the Avengers. “Any of you.” 

But Steve couldn’t lose her either. What did Rosalie expect them to do, let her fight a demon alone? He nodded to Bucky. Both of them edged closer to Rosalie, like two guard dogs taking up positions. 

“Alright, here we go!” Sam shouted. The lightning spewed and writhed along the floor. 

Amid the chaos, the elevator door chimed. 

Six guards surrounded a man in a pale grey suit, blond hair, and mismatched eyes. A haphazard bandage covered one side of his face. 

“Auerbach,” Rosalie whispered. “The scientist.”

“Who?” Tony asked. Both he and Natasha fired at the group. The soldiers closed ranks, gunshots ricocheting off their shields. 

This was the man who experimented on angels. The one who put her in chains and left her like an animal, waiting to die. Steve growled. Finding anyone in that situation would have angered him. Knowing it was Rosalie struck a nerve Steve forgot he had. “Auerbach!” he called out, jumping atop a pile of crates. 

The man in the suit held up a hand. The soldiers around him stopped, too. “Hold your fire,” he said. The cold voice matched his dead stare. “This did not concern you, Captain America. Give us the angel and we can forget this ever happened.” 

“You took my friend,” Steve said. Rosalie hovered behind him. Bucky slid into position. From here, Bucky would never miss. “That means it concerns me.” 

“A friend.” Auerbach’s eyes slid to Rosalie. “You know this specimen?” 

“Her name,” Steve spat, “is Rosalie.” 

Auerbach smiled. “You have an interesting choice in friends, Captain.” His gaze shifted from Rosalie to Bucky. He switched to Russian, a phrase Steve couldn’t understand. 

“Fuck you,” Bucky said. 

“I hear our commands will no longer work on the Winter Soldier,” Auerbach said. “Tell me, should we test our theory?” 

Meanwhile, Natasha emerged in the back of Auerbach’s guard. Leaping onto one soldier’s back, she twisted his neck before shooting another. “That won’t be necessary,” she said, the body dropping to the ground. 

“The Widow,” Auerbach hissed. 

“Nice to meet you, too.” Natasha blew him a kiss and darted away. 

The ground beneath their feet trembled again. The red lightning grew like a mushroom cloud. “Get back!” Rosalie cried. “I can’t protect all of you from here!” 

“Protect them?” Auerbach gazed into the chasm with cool curiosity. “Protect them from what?” 

“You know damn well what’s coming,” Rosalie shot back. “Or… maybe you don’t.” 

A ball of black and red light shot out of the opening in the floor. It reminded Steve of Thor’s lightning, only dark, deep, and primal. He tightened the shield on his arm, undeterred. 

A humanoid form jumped out of the magic lightning. Salt and pepper hair stuck out in every direction. Blood dripped from his beard and onto his shirt. He licked his fangs, grinning. Red irises twinkled against the pitch black of the rest of his eyes. 

And then there was the tail. About the length of a whip, a curved spike waited on the end, dripping with venom.

The newcomer looked at Auerbach. “Connor, did you bring some friends?” He batted his eyelashes. “I’m surprised you’re still here.” 

“I believe the deal was to kill you,” Auerbach said. “Pity we don’t have the time.” 

In the parking lot, one last helicopter landed. “Dr. Auerbach!” A soldier waved to him. “We have to go, sir!” 

“Run away, little Connor,” The demon waved a hand, dismissing him. “That’s what you do best, isn’t it? But don’t worry. I’ll find you again.” His gaze shifted to Rosalie. His mouth twisted into a smirk. “Just like I waited to find  _ you,  _ sweetheart.” 

“What in the hell is that?” Tony muttered. 

“That’s what demons look like?” Bucky added. 

Rosalie flicked her hands to either side. A magic wall sprung up between the demons and the Avengers. “Malcolm Nash. A demon who shed his human skin.” Her eyes were entirely white now. The iridescent glow of her feathers cast beams of light over the floor. 

“You’re not entirely human yourself, in case you’ve forgotten.” He wiggled his fingers at her. “It’s so cute, you and your little magic wall.” 

“I won’t let you hurt them, Malcolm.” She raised her chin, defiant. 

“No one lets me do anything.” Malcolm palmed his magic, only his was black and seething. “You can’t control me. And you can’t stop me, either.” 

“But she has help.” Tony hovered beside her. “She doesn’t fight alone, Hellboy.” 

Steve squared his shoulders. “You can’t fight all of us.” 

Malcolm threw his head back and laughed. “You wanna bet?” 

With the Avengers focused on the demon, Auerbach and his team slunk towards the door. Steve jerked his head to Natasha. Neither one of them could get away.

Natasha moved in a blur of black leather and gunfire. One hand went down from her Widow’s Bites, shaking as electricity coursed through his body. Auerbach took off, running towards the helicopter. 

Her bullet ricocheted off the helicopter. Auerbach leapt onto the boarding ramp. “Go, go!” He waved at the pilot. “The information is safe! We have what we need!” 

The helicopter took off. Another officer pulled Auerbach inside as the ramp closed. Natasha threw a tracker at the aircraft, but Steve couldn’t see if it connected. “Where’s Clint when you need him?” she muttered. 

Chaos erupted. 

The remaining HYDRA soldiers fired at Malcolm. Avengers fired back at the soldiers. Malcolm grinned like a feral cat and jumped towards Rosalie. 

Steve caught him with the shield. “Stay away from her,” he snarled. 

“No,” Malcolm shot back. His tail whipped forward. Steve blocked it. Venom dripped onto the vibranium, smoking as it hit the metal. “She’s mine.” 

“She doesn’t belong to anyone.” Steve kicked Malcolm in the chest. A voice inside him whispered:  _ She belongs to Bucky and I now.  _ “And no one deserves to be chained in a cell.” 

“Does that offend your precious sensibilities?” Sarcasm dripped from Malcolm’s words. “Meddling little bitch needs to learn her place.” 

A bullet tore through Malcolm’s shoulder. He dropped to a knee, howling. “Speak about her like that one more time,” Bucky hissed. “I fucking dare you.” 

Steve bared his teeth. No one would threaten Rosalie - or Bucky - without a fight. “SHIELD is already on its way,” Steve reminded him. “Surrender now and no one else has to get hurt.” 

“Steve!” Rosalie screamed. “Bucky! Get away from there!” 

“Why would-” Steve would have fought the command, but then he noticed what Malcolm was doing. 

Black and dark grey smoke curled around his body. Red lightning wicked from his fingertips. His feet hovered above the carnage. “Pathetic humans,” he snarled. “You’re just like those HYDRA fucks. Blissfully unaware of how insignificant you are.” 

Malcolm gathered the energy into a fireball in front of him. Natasha and Tony took off after the HYDRA helicopter. Sam hovered somewhere nearby. Darkness rolled off Malcolm in waves. 

Steve’s breath caught in his chest, like it did before the serum. He brought the shield up, undeterred. “If you want to get to her, you’ll have to go through us.” 

“Brave words from someone about to die.” Malcolm pulled his arm back, energy in hand like he was ready to toss the first pitch at a Dodgers game. His eyes focused on Rosalie. “Did you do what I think you did? Did you take both of them?” 

A wave of power crested behind him, warm and familiar and comforting. Rosalie hovered above Bucky and Steve. White energy filtered between her wings. “You will not touch them,” she said, her voice booming over the gunshots in the room. “They are under my protection now.” 

“All the more reason why they die first,” Malcolm launched his magic volley at Steve. 

He braced himself for the hit. The shield could only protect him so much. Steve was prepared for it to  _ hurt.  _

White met black in the space before them. Rosalie’s magic slammed into Malcolm’s, sending sparks flying over the warehouse floor. Her eyes locked with the demon’s, so he couldn’t look anywhere else. 

Now, Steve could feel her power. He was linked to her, and to Bucky, and together the three of them pressed against Malcolm. Bucky stared up at her with wonder in his eyes. The blue of his irises slowly faded into white. 

On the other side of the warehouse, the HYDRA helicopter careened and pulled away. “Damn it!” Tony shouted. “Get what info you can on that copter, I want it tracked down!” 

“Already on it,” Natasha muttered. 

“Auerbach wanted to see what an angel could do,” Rosalie murmured. “Should we show them?” 

Her hair stood on end as she gathered the energy ball into her hands, now the size of a large beach ball. Her face hardened as she pushed all of her power against Malcolm’s. Steve and Bucky tumbled end over end behind her. Steve scrambled back to his feet. “Rosie! Hang on, we’re coming!” 

“Stay there!” she screamed. “I won’t hurt you!” 

“No, come closer,” Malcolm taunted. One hand made a come hither motion. 

“No!” Rosalie gathered her magic into a giant orb and slammed it into Malcolm. His body flew backward and into the crater. 

The white blinked out from her eyes. Rosalie sagged. Her wings fluttered behind her, once, twice. 

“Rose?” Bucky tucked his gun aside. “Rose!” 

And she fell from the sky. 

Sam swooped underneath her, catching her before she could hit the ground. He landed softly, checking her over. “It’s alright, I gotcha,” Sam murmured. “You still with us, miss?” 

Rosalie didn’t answer, her body now limp in Sam’s arms. 

“ROSALIE!” Bucky dropped to his knees next to Sam. “Shit. I knew she shouldn’t be fighting yet.” 

Steve rushed over, too. “Is she okay?” His hands trembled. He curled them into fists to stop the shaking. 

“Pulse is steady,” Sam confirmed. He whistled underneath his breath. “Angels are pretty damn impressive. I’d want a nap after all that, too.” He glanced around. “Where’s the demon guy?” 

Bucky peered inside the crater. “I don’t know. Just because we don’t see him doesn’t mean he’s dead.” 

Tony flew over to join them. “Just heard from Sharon. SHIELD will be here in less than ten. They can do the checking for us.” He cocked his head. “Seems Angel Wing had it under control.” 

“HYDRA got away.” Natasha slid her pistols into their thigh holsters. 

“But they didn’t get their prize.” Steve brushed Rosalie’s hair out of her eyes. After all this time, she was alive. “Rosalie needs medical attention. Did they get to the quinjet?” 

Tony glanced over his shoulder. “Looks fine to me. I’ll stay to check in with Sharon.” 

“I’ll stay with Tony.” Natasha nodded to him. “After all, we engaged HYDRA first.” 

“Debrief can happen later,” Steve said. “Buck and I will stay with her.” 

“Then I’ll fly us home.” Sam slowly got to his feet. Bucky was right beside him, taking Rosalie into his arms. “We’ve got a plane to catch.” 

* * *

Down in the ruins of the facility, Malcolm caught his breath. 

Winded, sore, and lucky that he didn’t have any broken bones, it wasn’t like he could crawl out of the crater and attack them again. He was surprised the bitch had enough energy left to hit him this hard. 

She’d pay for this. Malcolm wasn’t the kind to forgive and forget. 

Groaning, he rolled over onto his side, mentally assessing himself for any injuries. His body felt like a giant bruise, but that was nothing that time, alcohol, and a long hot bath couldn’t fix. 

He’d landed near the dungeons. Malcolm closed his eyes and listened to the dark magic in the walls. 

He wasn’t alone down here. 

Hauling himself to his feet, noting how one ankle resisted his weight, he made his way down the hall. The gunshot wound in his shoulder throbbed, but he ignored it. Malcolm bit his bottom lip, tasting his own blood, using that to fuel his rage. HYDRA would be destroyed. Captain America and his friends would go with them. And Rosalie Archer he’d save for last. 

Two soldiers scurried down the hall toward him. “We have to secure the research!” one said to the other. 

And they both froze as soon as Malcolm turned the corner. “Hey.” He gave them his best, cockiest grin. “Whatcha doin’ down here? All your little HYDRA buddies are jumping ship.” 

“Nash!” They brought their weapons up, but it was too late. 

Malcolm slammed them with a blast of demonic energy. It left him winded, but the sight of their corpses incinerated into ash was so satisfying. He waved his hand, brushing away the soot from his shirt, and continued towards his destination. 

Malcolm paused outside of one cell. The keypad blinked, cycling through different colors. The lights above flickered between white and red. Eventually this place would be crawling with SHIELD operatives, but he still had a getaway vehicle hidden below. They wouldn’t find him. 

But he couldn’t leave without his most treasured prize. 

He punched out the keypad, ignoring the shards of glass stabbing into his knuckles. Then, resting his weight on his good foot, he used the other to kick down the door. He grit his teeth against the pain. 

Inside, a man hung from his chains. Dark curly hair fell into his face, crusted with filth and unwashed for weeks. His pale torso was streaked with dirt and blood. He didn’t look up as the door opened. 

And, sprouting from his back, were the torn nubs where two black wings had once been. 

Malcolm crossed the room and grabbed Sterling Archer by the jaw, forcing him to look at him. “Your fucking daughter escaped,” he snarled.

Sterling blinked at him with empty brown eyes. “Good,” he whispered. “She deserves a better fate.” 

“You’re fucking pathetic,” Malcolm said. His other hand pushed Sterling’s hair out of his eyes, getting caught on the tangles. “Look at you. You can’t even walk out of here on your own. It would be a mercy to just kill you now.” 

“What’s stopping you?” Sterling’s voice was barely above a whisper.

The grin split Malcolm’s face in half. “Lucky for you, I still find more value in keeping you alive. For now.” He cupped Sterling’s cheek, then slapped him. “You’re coming with me.” 

HYDRA would be hunting him. So would the Avengers. But Malcolm Nash would not be deterred. 

Before Rosalie Archer died, Malcolm would make sure the bitch had a front row seat to her father’s death. It would be poetic justice for how they’d both escaped him in 1925. 

His revenge was close now. He could almost taste it. And nothing, not even the destruction of the facility, could stand in his way. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovering at the Avengers Compound.

Everything hurt. 

Rosalie moaned, shifting from side to side. Her hands brushed over something soft - a blanket, keeping her warm. When she flexed her right hand, she noticed the IV digging into her skin. 

She didn’t remember anything after the fight with Malcolm. It took every ounce of her energy to pool enough magic to blast him away. Even still, Rosalie knew it hadn’t been enough to kill him. Without her chosen by her side, Rosalie wouldn’t have been able to fight at all. 

Her  _ chosen.  _ She had both of her boys back with her, her soul bound to theirs. So what if it took seventy years? Rosalie would wait seventy more if she knew Steve and Bucky would come back to her. 

Still, she knew she couldn’t stay in this hospital bed for long. Malcolm was still out there. Her father was still missing. If she was lucky, SHIELD found Sterling in the ruins of the facility. Otherwise, Rosalie would get out of this bed and start tracking him down again.

She blinked, once, twice. The phantom weight of her cuffs and chains still held her down. She shook out her hands, but the feeling remained. 

A heart rate monitor beeped above her, keeping track of her vitals. The IV pumped fluids into her, but she couldn’t see the label from here. Her body already started the healing process; now she just needed time and rest. 

A generic piece of art hung on the wall across from her bed, pastel flowers overlooking a tranquil lake. The shades were drawn shut. Two chairs waited at her bedside. Steve Rogers rested in one, head propped up on a balled fist. Bucky Barnes collapsed into the other, like he’d just returned. 

“Hey,” Bucky said, reaching forward to hold her hand. “You’re awake.” 

“Rosalie.” Steve took her other hand. “Hey.” 

She licked her lips. They were cracked and dry. Steve grabbed a cup of water from the tray beside her bed. “Here,” he said, “sip at this. Slowly, though.” 

Rosalie didn’t listen. The moment the straw hit her lips, she drank down greedily. When was the last time she had fresh water to drink? Or food that wasn’t thrown at her like she was a dog?

“Easy,” Bucky murmured. “It’s alright. You’re safe.” 

She patted Steve’s hand when she finished. All that mattered was that her boys were still here with her. “I know,” she said, “I’m with you.” She closed her eyes, listening to the machines around her. “Where are we?” 

“The medical floor of the Avengers Compound,” Steve explained. “After you blasted Malcolm, you passed out. Sam caught you before you hit the floor.” 

“Sam?” The name didn’t ring a bell. 

“The Falcon,” Bucky said. “The other guy with wings besides you.” 

“He’s a good one.” Sam had been there to help when they needed him. It was enough for Rosalie. “And Malcolm?” 

The two men exchanged glances. “We were hoping you might be able to tell us,” Bucky said. “SHIELD is still going through the facility. Did your blast kill him?” 

Rosalie shook her head. The movement made her temples throb. “No.” Angels didn’t kill, except for when it came to demons. “I wasn’t strong enough to do it. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” Steve squeezed her fingers. “You’ve been through so much already. It’s not over yet.” 

She sighed, closing her eyes. “SHIELD wants to talk to me.” In spite of her best efforts, SHIELD now knew angels existed. She’d have to answer their questions and pray they could keep her secret. 

“Eventually.” Steve shrugged. “But not until you’re ready.” 

“And we’ll be there too,” Bucky added. “Right, Steve?” 

Steve nodded. “We’ve got our own questions for you too.” He glanced at her monitors. “The doctors thought you were in a coma.” 

“I suppose I was.” It would seem so to anyone who didn’t know angel physiology. “I used the last of my energy fighting Malcolm. I had no choice but to sleep it off.” 

“And now?” Bucky turned her hand in his. Though her wrists were still red, her wounds looked like they were a few days old. “You’re healing pretty fast.” 

“One of the perks of being an angel.” Rosalie went to sit up, gasping as muscles pulled in her side. Steve was right there to stop her, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m fine, Steve. I have to get out of this bed. My dad is still out there.” 

He smiled down at her. “We’re going to find Sterling,” he promised. Even without the tether between their souls, Rosalie knew a vow when she heard one. “When we have news, we’ll let you know.” 

“You need to rest,” Bucky reminded her. “Stay right where you are until the doctors clear you.” 

She couldn’t argue with both of them. Bucky eased her back down, fluffing her pillows for her. “I’m supposed to take care of you two,” she protested. “I can’t do that from here.” 

“And we’re fine,” Steve shot back. “You kept us from being hurt.” 

“Even though you shot your way through HYDRA agents,” she grumbled. 

“Well, that’s what we do now,” Bucky admitted. He smoothed a hand over her hair. Rosalie turned her head towards his touch. Did they realize how much their presence helped her? “Sleep. We’ll still be here when you wake up.” 

She tightened her grip on their hands. Neither one let her go. “You promise?” Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if I wake up and you’re not here. I just got you back.” 

Bucky gave her a smile. There was an edge to him now, one that hadn’t been there before the war. Parts of Bucky’s soul were damaged in ways Rosalie was only beginning to understand. “We feel the same about you, doll,” Bucky said. 

“And we don’t want to let you go either.” Though he was bigger and taller now, Steve’s eyes and smile were still that of the scrawny kid she knew in Brooklyn. “We’ll be here, Rose. Sleep.” 

Rosalie blinked away tears. She was safe. Her chosen were with her. Auerbach and Malcolm wouldn’t attack the Avengers’ compound. She could rest, and she could heal. 

Another minute or two later, Rosalie drifted back to sleep. 

* * *

“You’re telling me that she is a real, honest to God, angel? Like from the Bible?” Tony eyed Steve over the rim of his coffee cup. “I’ve seen a lot of shit over the years, but angels are a new one.” 

Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. With Rosalie currently in the medical ward, she hadn’t been a part of the Avengers’ debriefing. Bucky stayed with her while Steve went to talk to Tony. If someone interrupted Rosalie’s rest, Bucky might shoot them. 

Which left Steve to deal with Tony and all of his questions. The last thing Rosalie needed was to worry about Avengers business, too.

“I don’t know anything about that,” Steve said instead, “but I believe Rosalie.”

“Because she batted her eyelashes at you and the Tin Man?” Tony raised an eyebrow.

“Because,” Steve clenched his jaw, “we know her. She grew up with us in Brooklyn.”

“Yet you didn’t know she had wings.”

“Sure didn’t.” Steve’s memory was perfect to a fault. Sterling always looked great for his age and Rosalie always knew when they needed her. Neither one mentioned their angelic abilities.

Shaking his head, Tony looked out the conference room window. A view of the Hudson River greeted them below. “Just wait until Fury finds out about this shitstorm.”

Steve shrugged. “I’ll deal with him.” Nick Fury wasn’t the boss of him. If Steve wanted to help his friends, then he would. He could never say no to Peggy anyway.

“That won’t be necessary.”

Sharon Carter walked into the conference room, a heavy leather bag on her arm. An old woman followed a few steps behind her, with curly gray hair tied back from her face and impeccable red lipstick. Curled in the woman’s arms was a big white fluffy cat with ice blue eyes.

Steve would recognize that face anywhere. “Peggy,” he breathed.

She smiled softly. “Hello, Steve.” Peggy’s gaze shifted to Tony. “And for the record, this was not meant to involve the Avengers. I asked a favor of Steve.”

Tony spread his hands out before him. “Aunt Peggy! I was just helping my friends. And we ended up fighting HYDRA at the same time.” His eyes dropped to the cat. “Why did you bring a pet?”

Peggy scratched behind the cat’s ears. “He’s Rose’s.”

The cat jumped onto the conference table and meowed at Tony. “ _ I’m not a pet, I’m a familiar, you arsehole,” _ a clipped British voice said.  _ “And I belong to Rosalie.” _

Tony blinked. “The cat just talked.”

_ “And,” _ the cat flounced around, tail up, showing Tony his backside,  _ “my name is Ransom.” _

“Ransom,” Steve repeated. A long lost memory came to him: Rosalie in her Brooklyn apartment, snuggling with a big fluffy kitty with those same blue eyes. “Like... the cat Rosalie had before the war?”

_ “One in the same.” _ Ransom sniffed Steve’s hand, then rubbed his face against his fingers, marking him.  _ “At least one of you lot has a decent memory. You look different now, but you still smell the same.” _ His blue eyes almost looked human.  _ “Hello, Steven Rogers.” _

His fingers trembling, Steve petted Ransom’s back. A happy purr came from the cat. “How are you still alive?” he whispered.

_ “My life is bound to Rosalie’s. But she can’t take a cat everywhere, so she left me at home.”  _ Ransom’s tail thumped against the conference table.  _ “The neighbor girl gives me extra treats and good pets, so I don’t mind. But I’ve been away from her for too long.” _

First Rosalie was still alive, and now her cat was, too. He’d never heard of familiars before, nor did Rosalie mention having one. Steve still had a lot to learn about angels.

“I was not prepared for a talking cat,” Tony muttered, shaking his head. “I’m still processing the whole angel thing.”

_ “Familiar,” _ Ransom corrected.  _ “I am to strengthen and guide my angel. I am her tether to this earthly plane. For a long time it was just Rosalie and I. But now...” _ Ransom nudged Steve’s hand with his nose.  _ “She’s gone and done it, hasn’t she?” _

“Done what?” Steve asked.

_ “Found her chosen and bound herself to you.” _

Rosalie had called them that when she cast the big spell in the HYDRA cafeteria. “Yes,” Steve said, unable to lie to the cat.

_ “Not just to you, though.” _ Ransom’s eyes bore into him. A curl of white swirled in his irises.  _ “She found you both.” _

“I’m sorry, what nonsense is the cat talking about?” Tony rolled his eyes.

“Bucky,” Peggy breathed. Her eyes lit up. “Barnes is alive?”

Sharon winced, looking away from her aunt. Even though Peggy was one of the founders of SHIELD, she didn’t know everything that happened anymore. “Bucky’s alive,” Steve confirmed. “He went with me to find Rosalie.”

“But how could...” Peggy glanced over at Sharon. “You knew.”

“Barnes’ mind was unstable for some time,” Sharon said. “Until recently, we weren’t sure who we’d rescued from HYDRA: James Barnes or the Winter Soldier.”

Peggy’s shoulders sagged. Sharon guided her to a seat. She sighed, rubbing at her temple. “And Rosalie knows?” 

“Yes.” First they found Rosalie captured by HYDRA, and now Peggy was here in the aftermath. There was so much he needed to say, but this wasn’t the time or place. “He’s with Rosalie now.” 

“That’s good,” Peggy murmured. Ransom perched on the edge of the table, and she scratched behind his ears. “I want to see her.” 

“Ms. Archer is in the medical unit, recovering,” Tony said. “Last I knew she wasn’t allowed visitors.” 

Peggy turned her steely gaze to Tony. “I wasn’t asking for permission,” she reminded him. “Also, it’s Dr. Archer. I watched that woman put herself through medical school. You will address her by her proper title.” 

Sharon just smirked. 

“And you, Agent Carter?” Tony raised an eyebrow at the younger woman. “Did  _ you  _ know Dr. Archer was an angel?” 

Sharon shook her head. “No. That’s news to me too.” She paused, “I’m not that surprised. Rose always seems to know more than she lets on.” 

Both Steve and Peggy nodded in agreement. “She’s always been like that,” Steve said. “Since we were kids. Like she had a sixth sense for when Buck and I were in trouble.” 

“I’m sure you two were absolute saints,” Peggy said. 

Steve smiled at her. His memories of his youth in Brooklyn were precious to him. Especially now that he knew Rosalie and Bucky were still alive. “Of course we were. Swear on my mother’s grave.” 

Peggy chuckled, a sound he hadn’t heard in far too long. “You were never a good liar,” she said, offering him a hand. Steve helped her to her feet. “Let’s go see Rosalie.” She glanced over her shoulder at Tony. “When you can meet Rose proper, you’ll understand.” 

Ransom flicked his tail back and forth.  _ “He’s not coming with us now,”  _ the cat insisted. 

Tony threw his hand up. “Alright, alright! Just tell her I have questions for her.” 

“We all do,” Sharon said. 

“Later,” Steve agreed. Rosalie’s health took priority. He would introduce her to the Avengers proper when she was ready. 

He offered his arm to Peggy, like they were all of 25 again. Ransom crawled up Steve’s other arm and perched on his shoulder. The cat purred in his ear.  _ “I could get used to this,”  _ Ransom said. 

They headed out, Sharon following behind them. Rosalie would be happy to see her friends, and Steve would do anything to make Rosalie happy. He knew this was the right decision. 

Everything else could wait, at least for the evening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day to those celebrating! And happy clearance candy day tomorrow! ♥


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More reunions in the Avengers Compound.

Rosalie drifted in and out of consciousness, lulled by the sound of beeping machines. Already she could feel her energy returning, her wounds healing. Modern medicine was effective, but nothing was better for an angel than old fashioned rest. 

Doctors came and went. Each one made notes in her chart. But not one mentioned any testing or questioned her angelic biology. She imagined having two supersoldiers hovering at her bedside made them think twice about asking. 

Bucky shifted in his seat. He was still there, just as he was the last time she woke. Voices murmured outside in the hall. Rosalie yawned. “What is it?” she asked. “Where’s Steve?”

“He was talking to Tony.” Bucky squeezed her hand. 

“Okay.” Rosalie adjusted her bed so she could sit up. 

Steve came into the room, with a familiar face on his arm. “Peggy!” Rosalie cried. “What are you doing here?” 

And, perched on Steve’s shoulder, was a cat she’d recognize anywhere. “Ransom!”

_ “Rosalie!”  _ Ransom leapt off Steve and bounded over to her. He curled up on her chest, pressing his nose into her neck. His purring was louder than the monitors around her. 

She buried her fingers into his white fur. “Ransom,” his name got out as a sob. She squeezed her eyes shut as the tears came again. “I missed you.” 

_ “You went quiet. I couldn’t feel you out there.”  _

“I was trapped inside demonic wards.”

Ransom hissed. Steve took a step back.  _ “I still smell dark magic on you. I should rip out their throats.”  _

“I know you would.” 

_ “You should have brought me.” _

“He would have killed you.” Rosalie pressed a kiss to Ransom’s head. “And that would have killed me.” 

She glanced up. Steve, Bucky, Peggy, and Sharon all stared at them. Bucky pointed at Ransom. “The cat talks,” he whispered. 

The cat scoffed. Leaving Rosalie, he sniffed at Bucky’s metal hand, tail twitching.  _ “He smells like the right one,”  _ Ransom mused,  _ “but he doesn’t look like it. What happened to the arm?”  _

Bucky clenched his jaw. “Rather not say right now.” 

Ransom pawed at his hand. “He wants you to pick him up,” Rosalie said. “He won’t hurt you.” 

Blinking, Bucky turned his hand palm up to the cat. Ransom jumped into his arms. He stumbled back a step, but didn’t let Ransom go. “You... you used to have a white cat in Brooklyn,” Bucky said, hesitantly. 

_ “That was me,”  _ Ransom confirmed.  _ “You always had a warm lap for cuddling.”  _

“Same cat,” Bucky repeated, “as you had in the 40s?”

“Ransom is my familiar,” Rosalie explained. “I don’t usually take him when I travel, because someone,” she raised an eyebrow, “has a hard time keeping his mouth shut.” 

_ “Bah.”  _ Ransom leapt down onto the bed. He curled up beside her, resting his head on his paws.  _ “You love me.”  _

“I do.” Rosalie didn’t realize how much she missed Ransom’s presence until he was with her again. “Peggy, you didn’t have to come all this way.” 

Peggy waved off her concern. Steve guided her to the empty chair at Rosalie’s bedside. “When my niece tells me the Avengers are fighting HYDRA at your last known location? I needed to see you myself.” 

“Don’t tell me you were going to go to the warehouse,” Rosalie chided. “It wasn’t safe, Peg. For any of us.” 

“No. I know my limits.” Peggy took Rosalie’s other hand, careful of her IV. “Which was why I asked Steve to go for me.” Peggy paused. “I didn’t know he would bring a friend.” 

Scratching the back of his neck, Bucky ducked his head. “Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated.” Though he was joking, Bucky’s eyes didn’t crinkle like they used to, nor did he smile. 

_ “Something damaged his soul,” _ Ransom said. _ “I can feel it from here.” _

“Hush.” Rosalie felt it, too. He’d been through something unspeakable, and it was more than losing an arm. Bucky would tell her in his own time. She bopped Ransom on the nose. “This is why I don’t get to take you places.” 

_ “I tell the truth.” _

Steve chuckled. “I think I like your cat.” 

“I think I liked him better when he was silent,” Bucky grumbled. Sighing, he crossed his arms. “Steve and I were going to come see you. When all this was over.”

Peggy nodded. “I don’t hold it against you. Rosalie had to come first.” 

“No, I didn’t,” Rosalie protested. 

“Yes, you did,” both Steve and Bucky shot back. “Which one of us is in the hospital bed?” Steve added. 

“Which one of us will be out of here by morning?” Rosalie held up her wrist, showing off her healing skin. “See? I’m better.” 

“Doctors decide that,” Bucky insisted. 

The SHIELD medical team had never seen an angel before, nor would they know when one was healed. Rosalie kept that to herself. “We’ll see,” she said instead. 

Sharon lingered in the doorway, arms crossed, observing the conversation. “I’m sorry I never mentioned what I was to you,” Rosalie said, wincing. “It’s not exactly something you bring up over afternoon tea.” 

Sharon waved a hand. “I work for SHIELD. I deal in secrets. Aunt Peggy trusted you, so that was enough for me.” She tilted her head. “Did you find your father?” 

Rosalie’s face fell. Ransom snuggled into her further, purring against her.  _ “I can’t feel him either,”  _ Ransom murmured.  _ “I’m not connected to him the way I am to you. I’m sorry.”  _

“It’s not your fault.” Rosalie drew a breath to steady herself. “No. We didn’t.” 

“You said that the demon said he had him,” Steve offered. 

“Who knows if he was telling the truth,” Bucky said. “For all we know, he’s just baiting you.” 

She lifted Ransom into her arms, leaning her cheek against his fur. “I know,” Rosalie whispered. “Peggy, Sharon, I hate to ask-”

Peggy turned in her chair to stare down her niece. 

“I’ll see what SHIELD knows,” Sharon said. “I might not be able to give you details.”

“Then you’ll go through me.” Steve’s voice dropped an octave. Rosalie shivered, but she wasn’t scared. “We’ll find Mr. Archer.” 

Sharon gave him a quick nod. “I’ll need what info you three have. Including all of your father’s known aliases.” 

“His current name is John Judith,” Rosalie said, closing her eyes. A warm hand rested on her shoulder. Another, cooler hand touched the other side. Steve and Bucky, right where they should be. “His full name is John Sterling Archer. Usually goes by Sterling.” 

“And you, I assume, are not actually Rose Sterling.” There wasn’t any accusation in Sharon’s voice, just curiosity. 

“I have the paperwork that says that I am.” Rosalie shrugged. “When you don’t age anymore, you get creative.” 

Bucky smirked, squeezing her shoulder. “Unlike old men like us who keep the same name.”

“Understandable.” Sharon checked her phone. “I’ll keep in touch. Aunt Peggy, let me know when you’re ready to go home.” 

“I’m not a child you need to babysit.” Peggy tossed grey curls over her shoulder. “I’m just fine where I am, thank you.” 

Rosalie chuckled. “I’ve missed you,” she said. “I’ve missed you all.” 

“And I you.” Peggy smiled at her. “I brought you some clothes, though I wasn’t sure what you’d want.”

“Anything is better than what I came in with,” Rosalie pointed out. “What happened to my old clothes, anyway?” 

Steve scratched the back of his head. “I think SHIELD took them for evidence.” 

“I’ll get them back,” Bucky said. “We didn’t think you’d want them.” 

Evidence. It was yet another reminder of SHIELD’s investigation. Rosalie rested her head back against her pillows. “No, that’s alright,” she murmured. “I lost everything I came to the warehouse with. My purse, my phone…” She furrowed her brow. “Even my car was gone. It should have been outside the warehouse.” 

“HYDRA probably stashed it somewhere,” Steve said. 

“Or trashed it,” Bucky added. “So no one would trace it back to you.” 

“That’s terrifying.” She could always buy another car, but it was but one more thing HYDRA took away from her. That car had been with her since she started working at her current clinic. Plenty of her personal affects were inside it - a change of clothes, her badge for the hospital, everything. She squeezed her eyes shut, the possibilities running wild through her mind. 

The cool hand slid down her arm to clasp her fingers, gently prying them out of Ransom’s fur. “It’s okay,” Bucky murmured. “This will take time. I would know.” He drifted his other hand along her chin, so she was forced to look at him. “And we have time.” 

“We can also let you rest,” Steve said, “rather than bombard you with questions and visitors.” 

“But I like questions and visitors,” Rosalie said, but her protest was weak. “Malcolm’s still out there, and so is my dad. I have to do whatever I can to help.” 

“You get better,” Peggy said. Rosalie recognized her tone: it was her Director of SHIELD voice. “I don’t want to hear anything otherwise. I will pull strings if needed so you don’t leave this room until the doctors clear you.” 

“Peggy, I’m older than you,” Rosalie reminded her. 

“And I outrank you here. As a matter of fact,” Peggy’s eyes swept over the room, “I outrank  _ all  _ of you. Even you.” She pointed at Steve. “Be at ease, Rosalie. No one will hurt you here.” 

“And if they tried, they’d have to go through Buck and I first,” Steve promised her.

_ “Don’t forget, you have me, too,”  _ Ransom chimed in, propping his chin on her leg.  _ “You’ll heal faster, and then we can break out of here.”  _

She couldn’t argue with all of them. Rosalie collapsed back against her pillows, squeezing Bucky’s and Peggy’s hands. “I am very lucky to have such good friends,” she whispered. She wouldn’t cry again. She’d cried more in the last few days than she had in the last few decades. “You’ll let me help, when it’s time?” 

The men exchanged glances. “I’ll consider it,” Steve said, while Bucky said, “No,” at the same time. 

“I’m the one who calls the shots with SHIELD,” Sharon said, raising her hand. “We’ll be in touch.” 

“Thank you.” Rosalie nodded to Sharon. 

“Time to let Rosalie be.” Peggy stood up, straightening her skirt. “I’ll check in with the other agents, see how progress is going.” 

Sharon sighed. “You don’t have that clearance anymore.” 

“Perhaps not. But you do.” Peggy smiled. “I’ll be back soon.” 

“Good.” For now, it was enough to know her friends were here, safe and sound. 

Leaning over her, Bucky wrapped her blanket around her. Once Peggy and Sharon left, Steve shut the door and dimmed the lights. “You don’t have to tuck me into bed like a child,” Rosalie murmured. She did think it was sweet, though.

“Let us take care of you,” Steve said. 

“And we’ll take care of Malcolm,” Bucky continued. “You’re not alone anymore. You have us now.” 

The bonds between the three of them surged. Every second she spent beside her chosen reminded Rosalie that she was where she was supposed to be. It didn’t matter if she had to spend another night in a hospital bed. Her body would heal, and so would her soul and her mind. 

It wouldn’t happen overnight. For now, this was enough. 

* * *

Bucky didn’t know which was worse: finding Rosalie chained in a dungeon, or the sight of her tiny and fragile in the hospital bed. 

Already she looked miles better than when they first found her. Soft patches of pink dotted her skin where her wounds had been. Bruises that should have still been dark and ugly faded into a sickly yellow. A nurse brought her a bowl of soup and some crackers, and she ate like she hadn’t seen food in days. 

All signs pointed to Rosalie making a full recovery. Bucky knew better. No one ever completely healed from captivity like that. 

Bucky stayed at Rosalie’s bedside, bits and pieces of old memories floating to the surface. Her laugh when someone made a smart ass comment, or the way she rolled her eyes when they did something dumb. Even the damn cat was familiar, like they were back in the 1940s. 

Now Ransom slept by Rosalie’s feet, undisturbed by the beeping machines and monitors around them. Bucky offered to turn on the TV, but Rosalie declined. “You should sleep too,” she told him. 

“Who’s gonna look out for you if I’m sleeping on the job?” he shot back, earning another laugh. 

Now, she slept. He perched on the edge of her bed, watching the rise and fall of her chest. They had a guardian angel. A warmth curled in his chest, just like that night in Brooklyn, when she blessed him. He never asked her about her magic then, but he knew it was real now. 

He wished he was still that kid on the rooftop, wide-eyed and ready to take on the world. His story took a different turn instead. But he survived. That had to be enough. 

Rosalie stirred, peering up at him through drowsy, half-closed eyes. “Are you okay?” she whispered, yawning. “You’re staring off into space.” 

“Not staring,” he said. “Just thinking.” 

“What about?” 

“Things?” 

She rolled onto her side. The hospital shift slid off her shoulder, exposing one of her scars. He knew now that her scars hid her wings. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

His thoughts were a jumbled mess. Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “You’re our guardian angel,” got out first. 

“That’s an easy way to explain it.” Rosalie bunched her pillow behind her head. “Does it bother you?” 

“That you’re an angel?” 

“That I’m  _ your  _ angel.” 

He paused. The Winter Soldier did not deserve redemption. Every night, he remembered what happened to him, the horrible things he did at HYDRA’s command. The same people who experimented on Rosalie did the same thing to him. And he’d let them. 

No matter how many times Steve tried to tell him it wasn’t his fault, he still knew the truth. Brainwashing aside, he chose to pull the trigger. Those deaths were his responsibility. 

Steve deserved to have his own angel. Bucky didn’t. 

“Hey.” Rosalie sat up. She took his hand in both of hers, resting them against her heart. “I know something’s happened to you. Something huge.” 

“Because your cat senses something?” He glanced at Ransom, but the cat never moved. 

“Because I feel it too.” Her fingers stroked down the back of his hand. He focused on the sensations, grounding himself in the present moment. “There are things I just know about you now. And about Steve, too. It’s my purpose for being here.” 

“Your purpose is us?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Yes.” The intensity behind her words surprised him. “I’ve known it since we were kids. I should have followed you to Europe. I told myself you’d come back, that there would be time.” She shook her head. “As it turned out, I just had to wait seventy years for it.” 

Bucky stared at the monitor over her shoulder. He didn’t want to see fear on her face - or her pity. “War was - war is…” He stumbled over his words. Rosalie waited him out. “I didn’t survive the war, Rose.” 

“I don’t follow.” 

He closed his eyes. He remembered the cryogenic chamber, the contraption they used to strap him down and wipe his mind. His jaw still ached as it had when he bit down, screaming through the pain. “I’m not the same man anymore,” he whispered. No matter how much therapy he went to, he knew the truth in his bones. “The Bucky you knew is gone. I’m not sure who I am anymore.” 

“I don’t care.” 

His eyes snapped open, staring at her. 

“I mean it,” Rosalie said. “I don’t care. You are still you, no matter what you’ve been through.” She rested her other hand over his heart, so they mirrored each other. A warm wave washed over him, and only peace remained. “I am here for  _ you,  _ and for Steve, because you need me. Maybe the boy who I knew in Brooklyn didn’t need a savior or a martyr or even an angel. That boy needed a friend.” 

Her hand traveled up, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “That boy is still inside you. But what you need, now, is an angel. One who can help you through the healing process.” 

“You don’t heal from this,” he whispered. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to live with it.” 

“James.” His name fell from her lips like a prayer. When he looked up, her irises were ringed with white. “I say you’re worthy. And Steve thinks you are, he always has. Someday you’ll believe it, too.” 

His real hand trembled in hers. Rosalie hung on tighter. “I killed,” he whispered. He couldn’t look her in the eyes. “They twisted my mind, they experimented on me, they used me. And I killed so many people, Rose. So many lives over at the end of my bullet, for what?” 

She didn’t let him move away. Her other arm wrapped around him, pulling him in for a hug. “James,” Rosalie sniffled, “you are not what they made you to be. You are the man who lives inside your heart. I know it’s true.” 

His metal arm curled around her. Had Rosalie always felt this small and delicate against him? “But what if it’s not?” 

“But what if it is?” 

Bucky chuckled, weakly. He didn’t believe it, but he wished he did. “You’re too good for me, Rose. You should be Steve’s angel instead.” 

She stroked his hair. Comfort radiated from her, but he didn’t know if it was her magic or just from being held. “I am Steve’s angel,” Rosalie pointed out. “And Steve’s needs are different than yours. I’m not surprised he made a career out of punching Nazis.” 

“Because he was finally big enough to do it.” 

“I would have been little Steve’s angel, too. I’m here for both of you.” Rosalie pulled back, cupping his cheek. “For the good and the bad. I know what it feels like to lose you. I won’t go through that again.” 

Bucky rested his forehead against hers. “We meant to come home.” 

“I know. I’m not going to question fate.” 

“Fate’s a bitch.” 

Rosalie giggled. “I’m not exactly fond of it myself.” She smiled up at him. “You don’t need to hide from me, Bucky. Nor do you have to share anything until you’re ready. Just know that when you are, I’ll be here for you.” 

“Even if it’s just to listen?” He couldn’t tell her the worst of it. She’d hate him. Rosalie would leave, and he’d never see her again. 

“I can do more than just listen.” She snorted, “But I know you and Steve think I shouldn’t do magic yet.” 

“He’ll be pissed if you do. I can only handle one of you right now.” 

“Which means Steve’s probably getting into trouble as we speak.” 

“Is your Steve sense tingling?” 

She burst into laughter, head going back. “It should be,” she said. “We’d hear if he started a fight in the building, right?” 

“It’s Steve, so you never know.” The tension in his chest eased. His mental trauma would always be there, but he could push it aside in order to take care of Rosalie. “You should rest.” 

“So should you.” Leaning back, Rosalie curled into her pillow again. The white faded from her eyes, but her gaze was no less intense. “Promise me?” 

He gave her a half-smile. “It’s hard to sleep in these chairs, doll. Let a man get to a bed first.” 

“I’d offer to share mine, but the doctors might frown on that.” 

His face flushed, and he ducked his head. There was once a time when he would have crawled into bed beside her without a second thought. Another Bucky, a younger Bucky, still would. “Actually, there’s something you should know. About Steve and I.” 

Rosalie watched him, adjusting her blankets. Bucky drew a breath, and then another. It wasn’t that he and Steve were hiding their relationship, they weren’t. But they all grew up in a different time, where such things weren’t in the open. “Steve and I are, well…” 

“Together?” she supplied. 

Bucky blinked. “How did you know?” 

She chuckled. “You two always had heart eyes for each other. I’m glad one of you finally did something about it.” 

“You’re not surprised?”

“Not really.” She shrugged. “Are you happy together?” 

The blush on his face deepened. “Yeah.” Steve made him feel whole again. Bucky couldn’t imagine a life without Steve in it. Now that Rosalie was here, their little trio was together again. He took comfort in that. 

“That’s all I could want for you two.” 

“You don’t think it’s weird for two guys to, you know, date each other?” 

“Should it be?” Rosalie raised an eyebrow. “I’ve dated both guys and girls throughout the years. As long as everyone is happy, that’s all that matters.” 

“That’s what Steve said.” Bucky sat back in his chair, rolling his shoulders. “Rose… thanks. For listening. And for being here.” 

Rosalie smiled. “That’s what friends are for,” she reminded him, yawning again. “And guardian angels too.” 

Guardian angel. Bucky might never get used to that term. At least they were out of that hellhole and she was safe now. They’d find Sterling, bring HYDRA to justice, and figure out what to do after that.

One day at a time. 

* * *

When Rosalie woke, the hospital room was dark. In a flash, she saw the cold, wet walls of her cell again. Her breath caught in her throat. She blinked, and the memory faded. Bucky’s chair was empty. Steve was nowhere to be found. 

Ransom stirred, lifting a sleepy head. Then he shot straight up, tail in the air.  _ “Someone’s here,”  _ he murmured. 

Rosalie froze. One hand slid beneath the blanket, curling into a loose fist. Magic tingled at the tips of her fingers. Her mind raced with possibilities. Did someone follow them here? Were Bucky and Steve safe? What about Peggy and Sharon? 

“You’re a hard woman to get alone, Dr. Archer.” 

She reached out with her powers. Bucky’s and Steve’s presences were at the edge of her consciousness. If they were hurt, she would know. “Who are you?” she asked. 

The man stepped out from the shadows. A black leather coat brushed against his knees. Underneath, he wore black pants and a black shirt. His dark skin was almost the same color as his clothing. 

And an eye patch covered his left eye.

He reached for the security camera in the upper lefthand corner of the room. Tugging on the wires, the green light on the camera winked out. 

“I’m afraid we haven’t been introduced yet,” he said. Though there was a gun strapped to his hip, he folded his hands behind his back. He radiated power and intensity, but he didn’t act on it. Yet. “Director Nick Fury of SHIELD.” 

Rosalie raised her chin. “I’m not sure I believe you.” 

Fury pulled over a chair, taking a seat. He left a respectful distance between them. “You’ve been through a lot, and you’ve had both Captain America and the Winter Soldier hovering around you since your arrival. I wanted a chance to speak to you alone.” 

“Why?” She could imagine several reasons, but none of them were good. 

“It’s not every day you get to see an honest-to-God angel.” 

A shiver ran up her spine. “Are you here to threaten me, Director Fury?” 

He smiled. “And face the wrath of the good Captain? Hardly. You’re not the first angel I’ve met. I spoke with Director Carter. She says you wished to keep knowledge of your kind off SHIELD’s radar.” 

“Correct.” Humans could not be trusted with that knowledge. Even with the best of intentions, it would spell disaster for her kind of everyone knew who they were. “But you are already aware of our existence?” If so, then why hadn’t SHIELD interfered with angels and demons before now? 

Ransom pounced into Rosalie’s lap.  _ “I don’t trust him,”  _ Ransom murmured. 

_ Neither do I,  _ Rosalie sent back. She stroked Ransom’s fur, the action meant to settle them both. 

Fury eyed the cat. “I wasn’t aware they allowed pets in here.” 

“He’s not a pet,” Rosalie said, but didn’t elaborate. “I wouldn’t touch him if I were you. You didn’t answer my question.” 

“Last time I trusted a cat, I lost an eye.” She couldn’t tell if Fury was joking. “I made a deal with the last angel I met. All records of angels were scrubbed from our records. I’m here to make you a similar offer.”

Already too many people in the Avengers Compound knew who, and what, she was. Rosalie raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.” 

Fury pulled his phone from his jacket pocket. “Do you know who this man is?” he asked, showing her a picture. 

Her stomach churned. She’d recognize those mismatched eyes and cold stare anywhere. “Auerbach,” she whispered. 

“Dr. Connor Auerbach. Lead scientist for HYDRA.” Fury scowled at the screen. “We’ve been tracking him for the last two years.” 

“You didn’t do a very good job if he’s still around to torture people.” The words were out before she could stop herself. 

“So he did capture you.” Fury set the phone aside, folding his hands in his lap. 

Rosalie frowned. “I thought my official interrogation would come once I was released.” 

“I’m not here on official SHIELD business,” Fury corrected. “Like I said, I’m here with a deal.” 

“Which is?” 

“You help us get Auerbach, I will keep all record of angels and your abilities from our files.” 

It seemed too good to be true. “What’s the catch?” Rosalie asked, narrowing her eyes. 

Fury shrugged. “I may need you to confront him again. I hear angels are capable of pretty impressive things.” 

“And you won’t use that to your advantage?” 

“Only if you agree to it.” 

“You know Steve and Bucky will hate the idea of me in a fight.” 

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t ask Rogers or Barnes. I asked  _ you. _ ” 

“Because you don’t want to deal with them.” SHIELD didn’t know that Steve and Bucky were her chosen, and Rosalie intended to keep it that way. Let Fury think they were just old friends reunited again. 

“I’m not afraid of them,” Fury said. 

“You should be,” Rosalie countered. She knew what her boys would do to defend her now. “What are your plans to deal with Malcolm?” 

Fury cocked an eyebrow. “The demon? We’re still tracking him. Last I knew he booked it south of the border.” 

“He won’t stay there.” Rosalie tightened her fingers in Ransom’s fur. If she was tugging too hard, he didn’t stop her. “He’ll come back for me.” 

“Auerbach is the more immediate threat. I have video of you blasting the demon back to hell.” 

She chuckled, in spite of everything. “I’m not that powerful.” Malcolm’s death would make things easier, but he was also one of their only links to her missing father. “Malcolm is still out there. And a whole warehouse saw our fight.” Rosalie froze. “Oh, god. Did you say  _ video? _ ” 

“I can help you with said video, if you help me. I’m sure you want to get Auerbach for all he did to you.” 

“Angels,” Rosalie reminded him, “aren’t about revenge.” 

“Your boys are,” Fury pointed out.

“Perhaps.” She couldn’t stop the Avengers from going after HYDRA on her behalf. But she couldn’t let the rest of the world know angels were out there. HYDRA weren’t an angel’s only enemy. “I won’t kill,” she said, slowly. “I will help, but there are limits.” 

He nodded. “Understandable. I won’t ask you to do our dirty work. I have other people for that.” 

Anxiety curled in the pit of her stomach, but what choice did she have? She’d have to face Auerbach and Malcolm eventually. “I will do what I can,” she finally said, meeting Fury’s eyes. 

“In exchange, I will keep all mention of angels off our records. For now.” Fury stood up, eyeing the cat once again. Ransom twitched his tail, ready to pounce. “We’ll meet again, Dr. Archer. Try to get some rest.” The  _ ‘you’re going to need it’  _ was implied. 

With that, Fury was gone. Rosalie stared at the ceiling. She had no idea if Fury would keep his word, but a fight was inevitable. Maybe, if Rosalie was involved, she would be able to keep anyone from being hurt - or worse. 

Her chosen had targets on their backs now, and they didn’t even realize it. All Rosalie could do was protect them to the best of her ability. She was, after all, a guardian. 

It was time to live up to her calling. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Monica's "Angel of Mine." Feel free to follow on tumblr (at ~wingsyouburn) or on DW (at ~tiny_ninja) for writing updates. ♥
> 
> Chapters will update biweekly, schedule permitting.


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